


No restraint

by Marium



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Breakup, Cheating, Drunk flirting, F/M, Forced Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Negan thinks real bad of himself when he's been drinking, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Relationship, Pregnancy, Repressed Bisexuality, Violent Thoughts, almost cheating, drunk Negan, lots of bad decisions, the plot can be summed up in 'everyone sucks at making decisions'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marium/pseuds/Marium
Summary: Both Rick and Negan want something they shouldn’t want. The difference is that Rick is far better at controlling himself than Negan is._____________________A series of semi-related chapters about a rather complicated emotional situation in which everyone is frustrated and miserable.





	1. Chapter 1

 

They were drunk. Well,  _ Negan  _ was drunk; Rick was only moderately intoxicated. That explained why the latter had ended up having to drag to former home under the concern that letting Negan go back on his own would end up badly for his friend, no matter how much Negan complained that he was a grown-motherfucking-up capable of finding his way to his bed himself, thank you fucking much. Details aside, though, the matter remained that both of them were in a certain level of intoxication, which may have been the reason of what was happening.

That being that Negan was pressing Rick against the wall of the hallway, barely a couple steps away from the door, knee between the shorter man’s legs. Rick’s lips were reddened and slightly swollen, wet, and Negan’s were now leaving kisses on Rick’s neck, kisses full of a sudden and unexpected tenderness that didn’t match the man they were coming from, a man who had slammed his friend against the wall and violently claimed his lips, leaving a faint taste of alcohol behind.

Negan might have been the one carrying the weight of the action, but even if Rick was putting all of his strength in staying still, there was no denying what Negan’s kisses and caresses on his skin made to the man, Negan thought as he smiled, just before nipping teasingly at Rick’s jawline. The man was tense under him, but it was from stopping himself from closing his arms around Negan, and his breathing was heavy, almost a pant. All the evidence he needed was his erection poking on Negan’s leg, the same way Negan’s own boner was pressing against Rick’s stomach through all the unneeded layers of clothes between them.

He kissed and teethed his way from Rick’s collarbone to his earlobe, which he then proceeded to lick slowly, chuckling when he felt a shiver run down Rick’s entire body.

“As much as I’d love to fuck you against this wall, I think I’d rather have you on my bed. Move along, sheriff.”

“What about Lori, Negan? What about Lucille?”

Immediately, Negan felt an acute pang of guilt pierce through his arousal and into the feeble list of reasons he had to not hate himself. The thought of his wife - and he didn’t know if he should be thankful that she was visiting her parents and couldn’t be there to see him, or wish she had never left for long enough for whatever this was to get into his head - and her smiling beautiful face made guilt flood through him and his dick started softening for the briefest of seconds; that is, until his mind focused again on the warm skin under his hands, and any trace of guilt was replaced by pure and wild  _ want _ .

He couldn’t help but think that it was amusingly ironic that Rick, whose judgement and opinion had been the other big factor that stopped him from cheating on his far too good for him wife, had at some point become the thing dragging him back into that familiar mistake.

He looked into Rick’s beautiful, clouded-with-confused-lust eyes for the span of a heartbeat, and then he closed his lips over Rick’s once more, desperately and eagerly licking inside and taking his lower lip between his teeth. A small rush of thrill ran through him when he got Rick to close his eyes and let out the softest of moans. He grinned, feral and dangerous.

“C’mon Rick, don’t act like you don’t know what a piece of shit I am.“

“You’re a piece of shit” Rick agreed, and Negan was far too familiar with that fact to be hurt by it, and instead took joy in the breathlessness in his partner’s words. His voice was a strange mix made up of the heat of someone who meant his words, the resignation coming from the fact that he had known Negan for long enough to somehow accept that as part of the man, and the confused and begrudging fondness Rick found himself feeling towards Negan anyway, shitty parts included. “But I’m not. You’re not thinking about Lucille right now, but I’m thinking about Lori.”

At that Negan laughed, a dark and bitter sound, almost angry, let out against the arch of Rick’s neck as his hands ran up and down his sides. Rick still did nothing to stop him, despite his words. 

“Lori? You gotta be fucking kidding me right here, Rick. You can’t mean you’re gonna act like she hasn’t banged your  _ best buddy _ Shane! Don’t tell me you’re not tempted to look at her and know she ain’t the only one getting a good dicking outside of your marriage bed? Well, I bet she has gotten that dicking on  _ that  _ bed. In all your house, probably. I hope they at least left Carl’s bedroom pure, but I really wouldn’t bet on it if that pile of shit you call a friend is involved.”

And Shane, of all people, had the nerve to be jealous of Rick’s friendship with Negan. He had never been able to figure him out, but Negan was good at reading people and if he had to have a guess on Shane, it’d be that the man had some sort of feelings for Rick, not only for Lori, and probably wasn’t even aware of it but that didn’t stop him from feeling like Rick belonged to him. While he had an affair with his wife. Yeah, Negan had nothing but guesses as far as Shane was concerned. But what he did know for certain was that he wanted to beat the holy hell out of him to a bloody pulp for daring to call himself Rick’s friend.

Not that Negan was any better, not really. There he was, trying to push moral, decent and honest Rick into cheating on his wife. With him, another married man whose wife was a friend.

“Stop it” Rick said, voice suddenly not shaking but cutting, leaving no room for argument. Negan didn’t know if it was the mention of Carl or the reminder of what - or whom - his wife was likely doing at the moment, and he frankly didn’t care. He just felt a desperate need to laugh all of sudden, probably effect of the booze he’d had combined with the idea that Rick wouldn’t pay Lori back, and he was then clinging to Rick to stop his laughter from making him fall to the floor.

“Negan, please. I said stop.” Rick’s voice wasn’t cutting anymore, but soft instead. However, it was more effective than anything else could have, and Negan felt a deadly cold invade him as the possibility that Rick really,  _ really  _ didn’t want this to happen entered his hazed brain. He moved away as fast as he could without making himself look anxious, and his relaxed smile and shrug did a good enough job of hiding how utterly disappointed and rejected he felt at the moment.

“Jesus, Rick, I’ll stop! But get that stick outta your ass, will you?”

There was a brief hardness on Rick’s eyes, but it was immediately replaced by something softer, something that Negan’s drunk brain wasn’t clear enough to read. He wanted to believe that it was regret that he had stopped it, but another, meaner part of him said that it was pity, because why would Rick look at him in any other way? At the moment he could be pitied or hated, and Rick was far too good for the latter. Far too good for Negan. Just like Lucille.

A few moments after Negan backed off, Rick sighed and nodded at him. “Goodnight, Negan. Hope you don’t have to remember any of it in the morning.”

But Negan wanted to remember it. He didn’t want to forget what it was like to have Rick’s lips under his, have his body under his hands and feel a shiver that said that Rick was aching to touch back. It would kill him, from embarrassment, from guilt, but he wanted to remember every single one of those sensations. When Rick turned around and went to the door, Negan stopped him by closing his arms around him from behind and hiding his face on his nape. Rick went still.

“You can’t tell me you’re gonna act like this didn’t happen” he whispered softly. “Rick, don’t leave. You- Lori- Just stay with me, please. You were hard, you  _ are  _ hard right now. I can make you feel good, so stay even if it’s just because you want to use me. God, Rick, I want you so fucking much, I need you to stay. Rick, I think I lo-”

Rick cut him short by violently shaking him off. Negan knew he had no fucking right to, but he felt hurt, even when Rick turned around and he saw that his face wasn’t full of anger, but afraid. Afraid of what Negan had been about to say and what it would mean to the both of them. With a gentleness that was only his, he put his hands on Negan’s shoulders and pushed him a step further into the house.

“Just fucking sleep, Negan. If you want to, we’ll talk about this. But not tonight. I don’t think you’ll want to say any of this when you’re not drunk. You’re not thinking straight.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Negan standing there, his expression turned into a cold smirk. Of course he wouldn’t want to when he wasn’t drunk, but not because he didn’t think it. God, how many times he had thought of Rick’s body on bed next to his without having a drop of alcohol in his veins. But without it, everything would be too complicated and he wouldn’t be able to focus on the simple facts. No, he’d have to face it all whole. He had yet again betrayed Lucille, the woman he loved and that by some sort of misplaced miracle loved him back, and he had utterly failed the only man that for some reason was willing to call him friend. He’d have to face it and he’d be too much of a coward to do anything.

He didn’t go to the bedroom. Instead, he ended up in the kitchen, serving himself a glass of rum. Bitter tears fell down his face as he swallowed the liquid down in one go.

What a shitty attempt at a human being he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this idea came at me all of sudden and I had to write it. It's meant to be a stand-alone, but I think it could possibly grow into a short chaptered thing if anyone's interested in it? I dunno, I'm sleep-deprived right now so maybe morning will say something different.


	2. Not a faggot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane loves Rick. Shane loves Lori. But he loves them in different ways; at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself all his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this thing? I felt like working on it more. Instead of one of my two ongoing stories. Or studying for my exams. Hooray.
> 
> The point: This story involves people other than Rick and Negan, and I'll be adding them as the story goes on. Regan will be the main focus, though. The chapters are only semi-related, because they're a single story but they aren't actively connected to one another and aren't in order. They're more of an exploration of a psychological situation rather than developing a cohesive plot.
> 
> Since that's how this fic is going to be, the chapters will come as the right feeling comes to my muse. I have no idea how long it can be between one chapter and the next, sorry.
> 
> And now to the point. Shane and his 'I love you bro. No homo.'

The part of Shane that knew he had something for Rick first realized it two days before they finished high school.

It sucker-punched him right in the stomach and left him breathless the moment Rick told him he was getting serious with Lori. In that instant, all he felt was a burning-hot and blinding rage invade him, making him want to violently shake the young boy in front of him, scream furiously at him. Rick was his. How did he dare _getting serious_ with anyone when Shane was right there, at his side? He didn’t need no one.

One second later, he pushed it all down before a single word had the chance to go out of his lips. Rick was too happy to notice it - because of _her_ \- but Shane was a bit shaken and distant as he congratulated his best friend. Where the hell had that come from?

Rick was just his friend, and Shane was most definitely not a faggot.

The next time he saw Rick and Lori together was at prom. They greeted Shane at the beginning, but then they spent the rest of the night dancing, laughing, being completely absorbed in each other and happy, oblivious to the rest of the world. It was disgustingly sugary, so much that Shane felt like throwing up. He was thankful to God that he wasn’t that ridiculously taken out of a movie; Rick and Lori were the perfect teenage model couple, while three days after that night, Shane wouldn’t even remember his date’s name.

The fact that he spent most of the night ignoring her, choosing instead to seethe as he watched Rick and Lori meant nothing, he told himself. His best friend had left him for a girl, barely spared him a glance. To hell with bros before hoes. He didn’t think that feeling the clear sting of jealousy mixed in with the rage meant anything, either. Lori was a popular girl, she was pretty and nice, and she had been in Shane’s sights for some time until she and Rick first went out together. Shane guessed that seeing her so radiant that night had made him go back to the disappointment he had felt then. Again, it meant absolutely nothing.

He only started actively having his attention on his date once Rick and Lori were gone. He put some more effort in the next dance, took her to his car, fucked her three times in a more private place, drove her home, and didn’t bother having any sort of contact with her ever again.

Not too long after, Rick and Shane started going to the police academy together. As far as Rick knew, they were both equally interested in it, but that was something Shane did admit, even if it was only in his own head; dedicating oneself to help people wasn’t an unappealing prospect, to be sure, but it was Rick’s calling more than it was his own. He wasn’t unsatisfied with his choice, but he knew that if Rick hadn’t gone there, neither would have he. Humiliating as it was, he had simply followed his best friend there as he had in more things than he was comfortable with.

Not that he regretted it. He had never feared that different paths would ever make him and Rick lose contact - he would _never_ let anything take his best friend away from him - but it was nice to still have him that close. They stuck together inside the academy, and they hung out together outside of it too. He would even say that they spent more time together now than they did before. It thrilled him to no end, partially because that meant spending more time with Lori.

Oh, did Shane want Lori more and more each passing day. Fantasized about her, thought about her every time he got laid, was extra nice when the three of them were together. His looks on her lingered a bit too long, his smiles were a bit too wide, and he found far too many excuses to be around their place. His hookups had a tendency to have long brown hair, and maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind, Shane wished Rick and Lori would break up _bad_ so he could comfort her afterwards.

He knew that he had more than a fleeting attraction for her, and damn, why did it have to be his best friend’s girlfriend?

_Oh, he knew why it had to be Rick’s girlfriend, if only he’d allow himself to accept it._

Still, Shane may not be that great a man, but he did like to think of himself as a good friend, at least. Bros before hoes and all that shit, even if he was the only one to act by it. He wouldn’t make a move on Lori as long as Rick was alive, he wouldn’t betray the man closest to him in the whole world like that. Didn’t stop him from jerking off to the thought of her nipples in his mouth or her hips under his hands, though. He was harming no one, and what Rick didn’t know couldn’t harm him.

It wouldn’t harm Rick that Shane sometimes masturbated thinking of him instead of Lori, either.

It was just that sometimes Lori didn’t quite make it. Shane thought of her, of her face, of how her body would surely feel against his, but the movements of his hand stayed mechanic and unproductive. He’d move on towards particularly memorable one night stands, the ones he would boast about to Rick in all sort of detail, but it wouldn’t make anything for him either. And then, for some casual thought, Rick’s face would cross his mind and suddenly his hand was doing the trick alright. He would pick up the pace, pant and moan Rick’s name as he thought of a firm chest under his tongue instead of breasts, and he would be coming all over his hand. He wouldn’t have even gotten to the second burst of semen and he’d already be swearing to himself that it was the last time.

He was always frozen afterwards. Angry. Disgusted. Disappointed with himself. He’d be seething and beating himself up as he showered again and threw to sheets to wash, intending to change the sheets or just sleep on the bare mattress. He didn’t want anything to remind him of what had just happened. It was curiosity, that was all. A one time thing that just happened to come back every few weeks. It was a phase. Yeah, that was it, it was a phase. He just spent too much time with Rick for his mind not to fuck him up like that. It’d surely go away.

Because he wasn’t a faggot.

So he simply went on lusting after Lori, day after day, week after week, until the day Shane found himself in a tuxedo as he read a speech to the groom and wife’s families, talking about how disgustingly perfect Rick and Lori’s relationship had always been. With each word, he lived all over again the experience of keeping in check the burning anger under him, just like he had when he congratulated Rick on getting serious with Lori, all those years ago.

That wasn’t the only flashback. Shane felt like he was at prom again, glaring daggers at the radiant couple as he suffocated in his own jealousy. It should be Shane there, dancing and being congratulated. What he, for some reason, wasn’t so sure about was if Rick should be the one out of the picture.

He barely paid any attention to his current girlfriend - he had been smart enough to get one as soon as he knew about the wedding, so there was some sort of naturality to him bringing her as his partner. He didn’t actually know much about her, only that she was as different as possible from Lori as he had managed. He fucked her hard and angry that night. One week after the wedding, he kicked her out of his place and never saw her face again.

Shane was happy for Rick and Lori, he swore over his dead body that he was. He loved them both _but in different ways, always in different ways_ , and it was great to see their relationship flourish like that. It made him feel like he was somehow flourishing alongside them, too, like he was a part of their lives even if it was painfully clear he was not.

He drank a lot these days. Most of the time he ended up waking up with some Lori lookalike sleeping next to him on his place - his place, never his home; that was wherever Rick and Lori were. One time, he woke up to the feeling of rougher lips. He opened his eyes and saw a _man_. A man that looked a little bit like Rick, but far less perfect. He was smiling brightly at Shane, with a hint of shyness.

Shane broke his nose and yelled at him until he left the building, terrified, bleeding, and half-nude. Shane burnt the clothes he had left behind.

He drank at his own flat for a time after that, getting drunk on his own. He went back to bars when it ended up making him present himself at the Grimes’ home, loudly knocking on the door and intending to make out with Lori or Rick, whoever opened the door, forcefully if necessary. The good part was that he only had time to grin in what he hoped was a seductive way at Rick before throwing up on their doormat and passing out. The bad part was that when he woke up, he remembered clear as day what had been going on in his head.

He ended up getting some stability back in time to be there to support Rick when Carl was born. Shane remembered clear as day calming Rick down as he paced nervously up and down in the hospital while Lori was giving birth. His rational mind told him that it was understandable that his best friend seemed to be paying next to no attention to him, but he still felt hurt and angry. More so when Rick dropped him without a second thought to rush to Lori’s side as soon as he was allowed to. Meanwhile, Shane was left aside, bitter and lonely. An outsider.

All of that washed away the moment he saw Carl, though, a few hours later. A smiling Rick offered him for Shane to see, and the man’s face broke into a wide grin as he saw the baby boy. In that moment, he knew that he loved Carl as if he was his own. To him, he was. Maybe the boy didn’t have his blood, but he loved both of his parents so deeply, there was no way he wouldn’t love him too.

All had been fine after that, actually. He consolidated his stability, kept working with his best friend, continued visiting his family at least once a week, and he was happy. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t what he really wanted, but he could convince himself he was happy.

And then, years later, came Negan.

The intense dislike Shane felt for him, bordering irrational hate, started the moment he first saw him, when he was passing by Rick’s house to pay a visit, and found the stranger with Rick, talking obnoxiously high and animatedly with his arm thrown over Shane’s friend’s shoulders. Like he was his to play around with. That very first moment, Shane started hating him.

He played it cool. He was civil as Rick introduced Shane to Negan, some asshole who happened to be a neighbor and had declared himself Rick’s new best friend. As soon as he heard the self-appointed title, Shane swore he wanted to murder him. Still, he kept himself composed.

He couldn’t keep himself that composed for long, though. Especially when he called Rick a Friday night and offered him to go to the bar to get wasted together. Shane had assumed the answer would be yes, like it had always been, and so it took him a few moments to register Rick’s words when he said that he was already at a bar with Negan.

“You can come join us, if you want” Rick said amiably on the other side as a booming laughter that could only be Negan’s sounded beside him. Shane was frozen, completely still and mouth hanging slightly open.

“No” he replied brusquely and ended the call.

He didn’t even think of finding an acceptable reason for feeling so ridiculously angry, he only knew that he was. It didn’t matter how irrational it was, the matter was that Rick had just betrayed him and that meant that Shane was finally, _finally_ , entitled to pay him back.

It wasn’t hard. He knew Rick and Lori had been having some problems, coming from Rick’s less than spectacular communication problems. Shane knew that Lori felt frustrated most of the time these days, just as much as she felt almost isolated. This wasn’t only fair; it was right. Lori needed someone to talk to, to make her feel like they appreciated having her there. Rick failed, but Shane would make up for his friend’s failures, oh, he would so much.

“You deserve someone’s full attention, Lori” Shane muttered as he sat with her on the couch one night Rick was doing night shift. It only took a bit of persuasion, and then she was spilling her guts out to him about everything. Shane listened, but it felt mechanical, almost like it was happening to a character on a screen instead of him. He continued with that half-here, half-not sensation as he made her feel validated, and as he sweet-talked her into trusting him as he led her to the bedroom.

Shane knew he was much more sure about it than Lori was when he laid on top of her. He didn’t care. All he could care about was that it felt every bit as sweetly delicious as he had always dreamed and then some. He thought about Rick as he fucked into his wife, and a cruel, angry smile formed on his lips as he moaned.

_See, Rick? This is what you deserve for leaving me for that piece of shit._

It wasn’t a one time thing. Very far from it. Shane had never intended it to be, and he kept coming back again and again, hungrier and hungrier for it every time he heard Rick say Negan’s name. It made him unstable and uncontrollable, and soon enough Lori’s mutters that _this isn’t right_ stopped altogether. She needed him as much as he needed her.

He had tolerated that Rick wanted a girl. He could handle that. But how did he dare get close to another friend when Shane was already there? It made Shane seethe so much he couldn’t even think straight.

Still, he was willing to forgive Rick. Angry or not, Rick was still his best friend and Shane loved him. He already had what he had always wanted - and suppressed the part of his brain that whispered _half of it_ \- ; now all he needed was to get Rick back. He would never allow him to slip away from his grip like that.

So now here he was, sitting at a bar with Rick at his side. It’d be perfect, if it wasn’t because Negan was sitting at Rick’s other side, and right now they were laughing together at some crude comment Negan had made. Shane was too busy hiding his grimace behind his beer to have even heard what it was about.

He made just enough comments to not make either of them notice his bad mood. The night went smoothly enough until Rick got a call from home and excused himself as he went out to be able to get some silence. Shane carefully eyed him as he left, and then put his attention back on the table. He caught Negan’s gaze, which was directed at him along with a shit-eating grin.

“Nice view, ain’t it?”

“What are you talking about?” Shane huffed dryly. Negan just smirked wider.

“Rick’s ass.”

Shane’s eyes widened and his breath stopped for a moment. His thought train was cut short as he just stared at the increasingly amused man in front of him. Negan laughed derisively and took a sip of his drink.

“Don’t try to deny it, your eyes were a fly and that ass was sweet, sweet honey. Not that I blame you. It’s an eye magnet, hard not to feel like slapping it, am I right?”

Negan laughed again, oblivious to, or perhaps just not caring about, the way Shane had gone pale. He tried breathing, but he found it hard. His saliva suddenly felt thick, gluing his mouth together so he was unable to open it. Something filled him, something he didn’t want to think about. He started shaking a little. He was panicking. Why was he panicking? Why did anything said by this piece of shit make him panic?

“I… I don’t… Rick’s married, I…”

“Ah, there it is. ‘Rick’s married’, not ‘Rick’s a man’” Negan pointed out, preening as he leaned back on his seat. “And hey, you’re shit. No offense meant. Shit knows shit, after all.”

And then it hit Shane. Why panic, when being angry was so much easier? Anger that Negan had even implied something like that, anger that Negan had been hanging around with Rick so much lately. But most of all, anger that Negan had been _looking at Rick’s ass_. He didn’t want to think about it, but that thought made him feel just like he had at Rick’s wedding, and there was no Lori to put it on this time.

With a dark grunt and sudden frustration, Shane stood up and punched Negan in the face. The man yelped and fell onto the floor, and fuck, Shane hadn’t felt so satisfied since he first fucked Lori.

The bar was suddenly silent, but Shane didn’t care. He walked over to where Negan had fallen, squatted next to him, and took delight in the furious, hateful look Negan regarded him with as he rubbed his probably bruised cheek. Oh, Negan needed to punch him just as much as Shane needed to punch Negan, he saw that now. Not that Shane would give him that chance; he raised his fist and made it connect to Negan’s face again. However, when he was going in for the third one, a firm hand stopped his fist. A furious Shane looked back, but all the fire died down when he was met with a deadly serious Rick.

“What the hell are you doing, Shane?”

Shane was at a loss for words. He stammered a little, but when all he could see on Rick’s face was anger and disappointment, he went silent and looked away. For his part, Negan looked up at him with hate, derision, and there it was, a hint of glee.

Shane shook, red with fury, and then he was roughly shoving Rick away. He leaned down towards Negan, not to hit him but to whisper in his ear.

“Just for the record, the only faggot here is you.”

And with that, he was gone. He shoved Rick again when the man tried to stop him, and then had to repress the urge to go back and and punch Negan again when a very worried-sounding Rick asked him if he was OK.

It didn’t matter that Rick had chosen Negan. Shane still had Lori, and that was all he needed. Rick would eventually beg forgiveness, and sure, Shane would make him work for it, but he would give it to him. Rick was his best friend, after all. He only needed to understand that he was Shane’s.

 


	3. Worst of first impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick saw some of Negan’s worst the first time he met him. To this day, he’s still not sure what made him accept the offered friendship. He does know, though, that he doesn’t regret it.

Despite his general fondness of the man, which others often found inexplicable, occasionally including the man himself, the truth remained that Rick's first meeting with Negan wasn't the best way to start a friendship. Rick had to admit – and he never bothered hiding it from Negan, who would laugh as a hyena and slap Rick's back – that he had gotten quite the worst of first impressions.

To be fair, it probably was the most accurate of first impressions, too.

Rick was conveniently alone the night he got a call about a disturbance in some bar downtown – it was his night shift and Shane was somewhere either wasted or getting laid, most likely both. Rick sighed; usually his alone shifts went on without any sort of activity, but he was nearby and this should be minor enough for him to handle himself, so he guessed he'd have to face it, alone and tired as he was.

Twenty-five minutes later he was walking into a bar in which a booming laugh could be heard over the already loud noise. Rick looked around the place, adjusted his belt, and walked over to the nervous-looking bartender.

“Thanks for coming, sir” the man said politely, and Rick rewarded him with a nod and a smile, which seemed to help him relax a little. “He's an almost regular here, and it ain't the first time he gets too drunk. Worst is, I don't even think he's that drunk. He ain't getting violent this time, so far, but he's making quite a few scenes, being quite loud, and he won't have me calming him down or getting him out. We just don't want more scenes here, y'know?”

Rick was pointed towards a corner of the local as he listened, and he nodded in understanding as he looked at man that somehow _looked_ loud. Just as he thought that, the man produced the deafening laugh Rick had been welcomed with.

The man had two empty beer glasses and a half-empty third one on the table in front of him, and each of his hands was snaked around an admittedly beautiful woman. He was nosing at the neck of the one on his right, lascivious smirk on his lips, while his hand played teasingly with the breasts of the one on his left. Rick stood in front on them for ten seconds, to no avail, and cleared his throat. Still no result. Only when the man said something and proceeded to snicker at himself, shifting his face so the whole bar could get an earful of his laugh, did he notice Rick.

Rick's unimpressed eyes confronted the stranger's gleeful ones for a second, before he gave Rick a very obvious, very slow once-over. The man licked his lips, grinned like a wild beast, and turned to his companion on the right.

“Honey, did you call for that damn stripper you promised? Awwwwww, you're so sweet. I'd say you didn't have to bother, but fuck, look at that. Fucking police uniform, it's doing unholy things in my pants.”

It took two blinks for the words to register in Rick's brain and a bright blush to take over his face. The man laughed again and was starting to say something about 'no need to be shy' when Rick filled his chest and took a step forward.

“I'm officer Grimes, sir, and I'm gonna have to ask you to please come with me.”

“My, my, sheriff, am I under arrest?” the man asked, poking his tongue out between his teeth as he winked. “You better know how to handcuff me, 'cause otherwise I'll be free to do very naughty shit, Mr. Grimes. The name's Negan, by the way.”

Despite Rick's best efforts, Negan succeeded in making his blush intensify. He bought time by looking at Negan's two ladies, who understood this was no joking and left, and by the time he looked back into a complaining Negan's face, he was composed again.

“The fuck? Come the fuck back here, ladies!” Negan raised in his seat, looked at them for a moment, and then fell back. He drowned the remaining of his beer and shifted his attention back to Rick. “Well, sheriff, it's just you and me now. You scared my company away, so you better get your shirt off or fuck off.”

“In case you haven't caught on, I ain't no stripper. And the only thing getting off here is you off that seat and out of the bar.”

“Wait, what? Getting off the whole bar, you say? I mean, I might need all fucking night long, but I sure as all fuck can do it. Why you asking, you wanna watch? Kinky. You're in for a hell of a ride. Watch and learn, young padawan.”

Rick gritted his teeth. The man was starting to get on his nerves. Not even when two minutes later Rick was shoving him into the car and angry complaining had slipped into his behavior did Negan stop with his rude, improper comments.

“I know you're not gonna get any of the hot women in there to pay your dick any attention if I'm beside you, but fuck, Grimes, no need to be this fucking drastic!”

“Listen, you look like you're much more irritating than you're dangerous, so this time I'm just gonna drive you home. Where do you live?”

Negan's mood shifted immediately. “What, you gonna take me home, Mr. Grimes? This is moving along fast, I fucking like it!”

It was void chatter, Rick knew that. He could tell this kind of thing was something Negan did routinely, talking and talking and talking, saying the most inappropriate things to get under someone's skin just for the hell of it. Negan's words were empty. Still, he found his knuckles going white around the wheel.

 _Breathe and keep your cool_ , Rick told himself as he started up the engine. It wasn't even close to being the first time he dealt with something like this, but for some reason this guy managed to get so much more under his skin than any other. He didn't let it get to him, and simply kept asking until he finally got the address out of Negan, under the threat of spending the night behind bars as the other option.

Rick's eyebrows shot up as he heard the address. “You live there?”

“Yeah, got a damn problem with it? Too fancy a neighborhood for someone like me? Fuck you, sheriff. Metaphorical sense this time. You probably wouldn't survive the magnificence of my dick anyway.”

“It's not that, just... I live around there, too.”

There was a short silence, and then Rick could _feel_ the smirk forming on Negan's face.

“ _Ooooooooooh!_ ”

If Rick could feel the smirk before, now he could hear it too. He knew it was there, directed at his nape, even if he refused to look into the mirror to make sure. He sighed deeply. He had a feeling he should have just shut up about it.

“Fuck, Grimes, we're neighbors! Ain't that damn peachy?”

Rick groaned internally and proceeded to attempt to block out all the neverending chatter coming out of Negan, who seemed back on full force, dropping a myriad of – admittedly extremely creative – profanities and flirtations and random thoughts on Rick. However, he noticed that the closer they got to the place, the less Negan spoke, and by the time Rick parked in front of the house, a deadly, heavy silence had fallen in the car.

“I can go in on my own, sheriff. Go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

All the liveliness and profanity was gone from Negan's voice. It was simply tired now instead. Rick gave the man a brief look before getting out of the car and pulling Negan out. He almost had to force Negan to walk to the porch, and he felt concern when he knocked on the door and Negan went pale.

“Please, Grimes, please don't tell her” he whispered.

Before Rick could ask what he was talking about, the door opened and Rick was looking at a woman in a nightgown. Immediately, he thought of the women he had seen in Negan's arms and felt his face go livid. The woman's face of concern changed to irritation the moment she took in Rick's uniform. She put her hands on her hips and stared Negan down. Negan recoiled.

“Lucille, baby-”

“Don't 'baby' me! You said no more trouble! And do you know what time it is?” she hissed. Her expression turned kinder, kind of sheepish, when she faced Rick. “I'm sorry you had to drag him here, sweetie. What's your name?”

“Rick Grimes, ma'am. He was making a scene at a bar.”

“Of course he was. What else would he do?” she mused, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She sighed deeply. “I don't trust him not to run away and go back, could you help me get him inside, honey?”

Rick answered an 'of course' and then Lucille was showing him the way inside. Rick stood on the door for a second, still and stiff, with Negan's arm still hung around his shoulder.

“Please don't tell her” Negan repeated, voice even lower this time.

Rick was about to scoff, but then his eyes went to Negan's face and he saw something. Negan's now exhausted eyes were begging him, and Rick didn't see someone who didn't want to get caught. He saw someone who hated himself. He was caught in those eyes for a moment, then shook his head and led Negan inside.

“What the hell was he doing, exactly?”

Rick stood up after helping Negan get on the couch and licked his lips. His eyes swiftly went from the man, to his wife, to him again. Despite what he had seen on his face before, he was about to tell the truth. But then, somehow, at the same time he looked at Negan, he saw Shane. Shane, whose 'discreet' looks at Lori often lingered too much. Lori, whose gaze sometimes lingered a bit too long too.

Lori and Shane, who Rick was painfully aware were tempted even if neither realized he knew. Who Rick still loved so very much and would forgive if they ever gave in; no matter how much it hurt, they’d be forgiven the moment they said sorry. Lori and Shane, who probably were bitter towards themselves as it was, although probably not as much as this man who had been weak enough to fall into temptation.

Next he looked at Lucille, and for a moment he saw himself, who simultaneously suspected and didn't want to know. Who wanted Lori to be the one to tell him, if it ever came down to it.

Rick doubted, made up his mind, and spoke one second before his hesitation was evident. He was pretty convinced it was the wrong thing to do, and yet something in him made the decision for him.

“He was having a fight with a few guys.”

Negan's eyes widened incredibly for a fraction of second. Rick didn't return the weak, grateful smile he was granted. It seemed far more genuine than anything else he had seen on the man, though, and for some reason he found himself liking it.

“A fight! Jesus, Negan, you said this wouldn't happen again! Do I have to forbid you from going out at all?”

“It was Philip! You know he can get very violent, he dragged me down. Jesus, not everything's my fucking fault.”

Lucille sighed and started massaging her brow. “Philip. Of fucking course. You don't even like him, why the hell do you still hang out with him?”

In that moment, for some reason, Negan looked away from his wife and stared at Rick. Their eyes met, and Rick was unable to look away. Negan's eyes were grateful, but there was also a soft shyness, something unsure but hopeful.

“I'm waiting for someone else to stand me.”

Rick had a feeling he knew what Negan meant. That's why he wasn't really that surprised when the next day Negan managed to find out exactly where he lived, and Rick found him amiably chatting with Lori on the yard when he got home from work. It turned out that Negan had introduced himself as a friend of Rick's, and for some reason, all Rick did was roll his eyes and stare instead of telling him to get out.

Negan told tem that he and and Lucille wanted to have them over for dinner. Lori was on board with the idea the moment Negan told her that he and his wife had a very good hand at italian food, and said she was going regardless of whether Rick tagged along or not. Rick wasn't precisely thrilled about the idea, but then he saw Negan's grin, cocky and hopeful all at once, and Rick felt an irrational pull of fondness when Negan asked if he'd go.

Rick didn't like Negan. He didn't like him at all. He definitely wouldn't be the one to _stand him_.

For some reason, he said he would.


	4. Honey, listen to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan wants Rick to listen to him, and Rick is afraid of what he will say.

“Come the fuck on, Rick!” Negan begged again, tugging almost childishly at the man’s arm, and closing an iron-tight grip on it to stop Rick when the other tried to move away.

“Negan” Rick warned, composed but cold, short and sharp. He gave the other man a look that matched his tone, but it seemed to roll right off Negan’s back without as much as registering in the man’s brain. In fact, the borderline desperate insistence on Negan only seemed to grow as he grabbed Rick’s arm with both hands and pulled him back closer.

“Don’t be like this, man! Fuck, all I’m asking is that you listen to me, goddamit!”

“Are you telling _me_ not to be like this? Maybe I’m wrong, but that feels like you’ve got this backwards. I’ve listened to you and I’m telling you as clearly as I can that the answer is _no_. God, I can’t believe this is a conversation we’re having” Rick grunted through gritted teeth, yanking his arm free and sweeping his hand through his face.

“Well, fucking believe it, because it’s happening.” 

“No. It’s most certainly not, because it’s ending right now.”

Rick huffed and tried to head towards the door that would lead him out of Negan’s house and into the street. Tried to, because a long, muscled arm got in his way, suddenly pressing on the wall to make a barrier in front of Rick. Rick glared at Negan, and Negan glared right back, something irked and frustrated but not angry, with a hint of desperation underneath.

“Let me pass, Negan.”

“I don’t think so, honey. Not until we’ve talked.”

Rick’s jaw tensed and his knuckles became white. “I told you to let me pass.”

“And I told you not a fucking chance in Satan’s ass.”

They silently stared one another down for a few moments until Negan tried to close the distance between them, bring their bodies together and their lips as well, but Rick turned around and walked back into the living room.

It was night and there was only a feeble light on, but Rick wasn’t bothered by it. He let himself and Negan be surrounded by darkness just like that night they had kissed and he had almost given in to his friend’s desires. He had hoped then that their actions and words would remain in the darkness just like he hoped it now, and he knew that it was a pointless hope just like it had been back then. He could still feel Negan’s lips on his if he thought of it, could still remember his hands roaming his body. It would never disappear.

Negan followed him into the room, but he seemed to decide that giving Rick some space was the right course of action, and he was proven right. He let him sit down on a couch and silently followed suit on the one on front, and eventually Rick’s agitated breathing came down to something much more soothed. All the while, Rick could feel the way Negan’s eyes stabbed into him like knives that dug into his flesh and twisted, hooking and refusing to let go.

A part of him enjoyed that stabbing pain. The other was terrified that he did.

“Rick, listen to me” Negan repeated, low and careful, almost a whisper, trying to approach a wild beast without stirring up violence within it, “I’m not asking you to do shit or agree to anything. Hell, I know too fucking well that you won’t. Not yet. But I’m not gonna let you walk away without listening to me, no again. I need to tell you this shit before it fucking blows up on me. Let’s talk. _Please_.”

Rick had been defeated, head hung low, before Negan even started speaking, but the moment his lips formed that ‘please’ he couldn’t resist any longer. There was a silence for five seconds, and then a heavy, tired sigh filled to room.

“I don’t want to” he muttered, but he wasn’t asking Negan to stop; he was simply and plainly telling him that he knew that what was coming was hard, something he’d tried to run away from for so long and now he had to face. There was no anger in his voice, and listening carefully enough - like Negan surely was doing; he always had every single bit of his attention and more on Rick, after all - there was something else, something almost fragile and scared, because Rick wouldn’t know how to deal with what Negan told him. He knew far too well what the next words would be, and he wouldn’t be able to deny them anymore.

He wouldn’t know how to deal with the fact that he’d want to say the same things to him.

One more moment of silence. When Rick’s eyes moved up to Negan, he saw fire in the man’s eyes even through the dimness of the room, a burning passion that had been fueling Negan all night and he ached to envelop Rick in it. With Rick’s eyes on him, the fire grew brighter and Negan finally spoke.

“I love you.”

The words were spoken loud, clear, and without even the barest hint of hesitation. His voice reached Rick and surrounded him, trying to trap him down and draw him to the man who had just confessed his love for him. It was so different from that attempt that night, where it had almost slipped out of Negan’s lips shakingly and weakly before Rick interrupted him, scared of hearing those words.

He had heard them now, though, and all he could do was stare at Negan and try to fight the shaking that threatened to take over his body. It was either that, or say something he would surely regret later on.

“I love you so much and it’s driving me mad” Negan continued, voice taking a softer tone but not losing an ounce of strength. “I’ve been hooked up on you from the first time we met, that much I could tell. But damn, Rick, you’re just… You’re unique. You’re special. You were and you are my best friend, then I wanted to fuck you so good you’d want to live hopping on my cock, and then I fucking fell for you on top of that. You’re all of that for me, Rick, and I want you so bad. I didn’t have the guts to try to tell you unless I wash shitfaced, but now I’m fucking up to it. I love you, I love you, fucking hear me? I love you and I need you.”

Negan took a break, tried to regain some composure. His breathing was heavy with the fire underneath his voice. He searched Rick’s face for an answer, but he didn’t seem to be discouraged when he found none.

“I remember how it was to kiss you, to touch you. It was goddamn heaven, man. I can still feel your skin, and I sure as hell remember that you were into it just as much as I was. Don’t you fucking dare deny it. I fucking know you want me just as much as I want you. I don’t even care if you’re not in love with me, I just want you to let me love you. Rick, let me make it good for you, please.” Negan’s voice became softer, barely a whisper, and his hooded eyes fell on Rick’s lips as his own hung half-open. “Let me kiss you, please. Will you do that for me?”

Rick should say no. He should be outraged - and oh, he most certainly fucking was, no doubt about that, but the problem was that he wasn’t sure it was something he genuinely felt rather than something he was forcing himself to feel. Most of all, he should tell Negan that this thing was completely one-sided.

His mouth felt too dry and thick for that, though. He honestly tried to move his lips and say it, but his muscles wouldn’t respond. Not to say a lie he wasn’t in the mindframe to utter and sound like he even remotely meant it.

“What about Lucille?” was what he ended up saying instead, voice only barely less dry. He closed his eyes. Yeah, let’s focus on that. Think of Lucille and let her remind you of why you can’t even consider listening to Negan. Feel the pain and shame in your chest.

Negan’s face froze, then it fell in a guilt so intense he seemed to have problems to breathe, then he looked angry - at himself or at Rick for bringing her up, Rick wasn’t sure - but finally put on the bravado and settled on an easy, almost goofy smile. He shrugged as if it was a silly question and not something that weighed so damn heavy on both of them.

“What, Rick, are you not comfortable with a ménage a trois?” Rick blinked a couple times, then Negan rolled his eyes. “Look, we’ve already established that I fucking love you and I’d want your babies if biology would allow it, and we don’t gotta say that Lucille is the damn light of my life. We’ve established that you got the hots for me, which you haven’t denied by the way” the man pointed out smugly, making Rick cringe, “and Lucille is, well, married to me so yeah, she’s pretty into me. She adores you and I know you like her a shitton lot. It’s not a problem unless you wanna fucking make it one, really.”

There was yet another silence, longer and thicker than the previous ones. On top of that, there was a sense of incredulity on Rick that grew bigger and bigger every second.

“Negan…” he finally said, at some vague point between careful and angry, “are you even listening to yourself?”

Negan’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, huffing in irritation. “What the hell do you think? I ain’t pulling this outta my ass as we speak, honey.” He tensed his his jaw and his fingers dug into his forearm over the cloth of his shirt. “I love Lucille, I love you, and I want to have you both. What the fuck is wrong with wanting it? Fucking tell me, Rick.”

“Well, for starters, you’re not in love with me.”

For a few moments all that happened was that Negan winked repeatedly in perplexity, but then something dangerously close to anger took over his face, making it twist and his teeth show.

“What did you say?” he whispered low and cold as he leaned forward, as if Rick’s words had pulled at some invisible strings urging Negan to jump on him. “Be careful with what you say, sweetie. You think I’m joking around with this? Well, I ain’t fucking laughing.”

Rick remained unfazed at Negan’s lashing out; he didn’t even blink, and just tilted his head as he narrowed his eyes and let some anger and frustration of his own coat his voice.

“You’re not in love with me” he repeated, louder and sharper. “You’re infatuated. You’re like a goddamn child, you’re all excited about some toy and you’ll whine and yell and cry until you end up getting it one way or another, and if the poor thing’s lucky it’ll have a week before you get tired of them, throw them away, and start pining for someone else. I’ve seen you want some lady or guy so many times, flip me off when I tell you not to do it and then come crying when you’re tired of fucking them and feel bad about it. The only person you’re never gonna get tired of is Lucille, and still here we are. This has got to stop now. You’re married, Negan, grow the fuck up and stop hurting a woman that’s too good for you, and don’t you fucking ask me to throw my life away only to ditch me in a couple months. You know too damn well I’m not gonna do that.”

What he expected was for Negan to be angry afterwards, react like the kid he was deep inside and rage at being told that that thing he claimed to love so much was nothing more than than a fleeting whim. He hadn’t planned it, but maybe calling Negan out like that would make him kick Rick out and spare him having to claw his way out of Negan’s sticky embrace.

And sure, Negan’s face did sink further into his rage at first, but then he settled on an uncharacteristic calm blankness. And then, taking Rick completely aback, his lips boomed into a toothy, smug grin as a throaty laugh rose out of him. Rick blinked in confusion as he watched Negan poke his tongue out between his teeth.

“Are you saying, then” Negan replied, voice as smug as his face, “that if you were sure I wouldn’t get tired of your pretty as fuck ass, you would hop on my lap and ride my cock?”

There was a beat. Rick’s eyes widened and to his horror he felt his cheeks going red. He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated the process a couple times as he felt his heart beat hard inside his chest, almost as if he wanted to jump towards Negan.

“Don’t be stupid” he finally said, voice shakier than he’d have wished. Negan seemed to catch on to that, because his smile grew - it was almost a slasher smile, really, and wasn’t that fitting? Rick felt like he couldn’t get away from him - and stood up. Rick immediately did the same.

Negan took a step forward; Rick took a step back. Somehow he ended up with his back against the wall with Negan right in front of him, hand reaching out to caress his face. Rick shivered, but he didn’t move away. He was trying so very hard to regain some control of his nerves, but it was hard with Negan leaning in, letting his hot breath mingle with his as their eyes sunk on one another.

“Goddamn, Rick, you’re so beautiful” he whispered before closing the remaining distance and letting his lips settle over Rick’s.

Negan was a dynamic man, damn near violent. Still, his lips were soft and gentle, careful as they moved on Rick, and maybe that was why Rick felt forced to go breathless, pushing his breath into Negan’s mouth who eagerly accepted it and took it as an invitation to put his tongue in.

One of Negan’s hands remained on Rick’s cheek while the other clung to his arm. He was so close, chest almost flat against Rick’s, and Rick’s mind was having trouble thinking of anything that wasn’t _Negan_. He wanted to kiss back, oh god did he ache to kiss back, dig his hand in Negan’s hair and press their hips flush together and let the man completely wreck him. The effort of not doing so was physically painful and made him pitifully whimper out loud into Negan’s lips. It made the man chuckle into him, a deep, sultry sound that sent vibrations all through Rick and engulfed him.

When Negan pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded and hot, and his mouth hung open, breathless. Rick could feel how _hungry_ he was for more, but still gave in when Rick pushed him away, even if he smirked as if he had won.

Hell, he had.

“You said you wanted to talk, and we talked. Now let me leave” Rick grunted, hating how shaky and fucking fragile his voice sounded, and for a second he also hated Negan for the smug, satisfied look on his face as he moved further away to let Rick pass.

“Whatever, honey. I’ll see you and your pretty face around” he assured with a nod. Rick gritted his teeth.

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

Rick felt a hard body press against his back and two strong arms surround him, momentarily stopping him to whisper in his ear and nibble on it.

“Oh fuck yeah I am. Don’t play hard to catch, darling, we’re over that already.”

Rick didn’t reply. He needed to get out of there. He wriggled himself free to which Negan offered no resistance, rushed outside, let the cool evening air hit his face. He didn’t stop for a second until he was almost on his own house, stiff and his heartbeat loud in his ears.

Negan was right. He wouldn’t be able to stay away, and he didn’t know what would happen next time he saw him.

Worst of all, that made him hate himself a little bit, was that he was looking forward to it and feel those lips explore his body and drive him mad.


	5. A slice of truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has a reason to stay silent, but when Lucille asks, he can’t bring himself to lie.

Rick liked Lucille. Always had, from the very first moment he met her. At first, it had been mere sympathy towards a woman that not only had to deal with a disaster of a man she called husband, but was being cheated on by him, repeatedly and unashamedly. The thought that she deserved better had been immediate on Rick’s mind, and a mere bit of getting to know her had told him he had been right. Being in on it, knowing he could just tell her but for some reason deciding to stay loyal to Negan, made nothing but accentuate that sympathy.

But other than that, Rick eventually found that genuinely liked Lucille. Gentle, but firm. Leaning on blunt, but never unkind. A charm that maybe wasn’t so flashy as her husband’s, but no less strong. A beauty that didn’t strike you at first sight but you saw more and more clearly the more times you looked at her. Unwillingness to stay silent if she didn’t think she should, and unwillingness to speak when silence was necessary, too. In a lot of senses, she and Rick would have had a difficult time not becoming good friends.

Still, when he found her on the street on his way home after Lori sent him to the grocery store, he wished he could have avoided her like he had for two weeks.

He managed to smile when she smiled at him, and when she approached to greet him, he did the same in good spirits because he genuinely enjoyed her company. But beneath that, a creeping sense of anxiety and guilt flooded over him. Still, their homes were on the same direction and he had no possible excuse not to walk along with her, so he did so without complaint.

For a few minutes, they were silent. Rick walked with his eyes on the ground, inspecting how one feet kept getting in front of the other, and for a fleeting moment he had the impression that they acted like it was a race instead of teamwork. Weird. He also stole occasional looks at Lucille, inspecting her before going back to his feet. Her hair was short now, just a handful inches. Negan still complained and mourned the loss of her long dark curls, but Rick thought they looked good on her. They gave her a more energetic appearance that matched her spirit. Rick smiled faintly and produced a low hum.

Then, Lucille finally decided to break the not-quite-comfortable, not-quite-uncomfortable silence that had settled between them, looking ahead, face tilted upwards, and speaking as if they were in the middle of a conversation.

“Negan’s been quiet lately.”

“Has he?” Rick replied, startling, looking at her, and immediately feeling a certain sense of unease settle onto the pit of his stomach, menacing to only become more intense the longer the conversation went on. Regardless, he proceeded, hiding the tentative tilt of his voice under an appearance of casualness and curiosity.

“Well, you know, he’s unable to  _ quiet _ .” A slight laugh came in Lucille’s voice, along with an amused snort, but as soon as it was there she was back to her pensive state. “But he’s been… weird. He’s been more attentive than usual, more cuddly, more loving, more soft spoken, more… everything.”

“Is that something bad?”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes he’s like this. He’s a very effusive man, you know that, and every now and then he’ll simply get specially affectionate. But other times… He’s just trying to deflect. There’s very little we don’t tell each other, but we haven’t been speaking lately. Properly speaking. He’ll change subject or say he’s tired or how horny he is every time I begin to ask if there’s something up with him, and that’s, well, that’s not a good sign. It’s not the first time he’s stopped talking to me and it’s never anything good.”

There was a long silence, in which Lucille kept walking as if she was talking about something as light as the weather and Rick tried to keep at bay his guilty expression, and tried to figure out what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ felt too bland and meaningless, ignoring the double meaning behind it; ‘I’m sure it’s nothing’ was a lie too hypocritical for Rick to be comfortable with. ‘Maybe I can convince him to talk to you’ was something he would have said hand’t he known exactly what was up in Negan’s mind and was he willing to let the woman know.

She beat him to it, though. “He speaks to you more than he speaks to me, you know. You’re his best friend.” There was a pause and she gave him a pointed, but not accusing, side look. “There’s nothing he doesn’t tell you.”

Rick let out a snort, half in worry-induced amusement, half as a way to keep up his innocent act. Fuck. He really shouldn’t be lying to Lucille; the thought of it made his stomach churn in a goddamn unpleasant way. Then again, looking at her at all had that effect on him, lately.

“Are you saying that I know what this is about?”

Rick was still avoiding looking in Lucille’s direction, hoping that the skeptical inflexion he’d given to his voice would put the conversation to rest before it was properly started. However, when she stopped where she stood and didn’t take another step, Rick found himself turning around to look at her quizzically, eyebrow raised. His facade briefly faltered when he saw the look on Lucille’s face, no longer casual but serious, and aimed directly at him, arms crossed. For a few moments, all they did was look at each other.

“Rick, is Negan cheating on me? Again?”

That was the thing. As it had turned out, Lucille wasn’t completely ignorant to what Negan sometimes got up to behind her back, even if she didn’t know - didn’t want to know - the details of it. Just enough to make her feel hurt. All that had done was make the guilt Rick carried over allowing Negan to do what he did all the heavier. Now, it was so heavy it almost crushed Rick under its weight. A weight that felt and sounded like Negan’s arms around his body and his voice on his ear.

As soon as Lucille’s words left her mouth, Rick felt the blood in his veins being replaced by freezing ice and his grasp on the hope that he was just being paranoid about this slip away. He let out a soft groan and closed his eyes, and he didn’t need to look at the woman across him to know that he had given it away just with that.

“No” he said regardless. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t. He didn’t allow himself to think of anything else.

Lucille’s expression turned into a considering frown, hands on her hips, until she seemed to accept it and nodded.

“Alright. Is he thinking about it, then?”

Rick was left with his eyes wide-open, unable to look away from Lucille. A thin layer of sweat started making itself known in his skin, and he had to steady the hold he had on the bag he carried home from the shop. He swallowed thickly. His mind tried to find the best way to get out of this, but before he could think anything up, Lucille spoke again.

“Rick, please” she said, low and soft. The gentle look of defeat and acceptance on her face stabbed him right in the heart. “I consider you a friend, and I think I deserve this much at least. Please, tell me. Let me know.”

That was it. Looking into Lucille’s eyes, Rick knew there was no way out of this; nothing he could tell himself would make him shy away from saying anything the truth. He sighed, defeated, but didn’t look away from her eyes.

“He is.”

He had to give it to her, Lucille didn’t even flinch, just shut her eyes for a moment before recomposing herself as much as she could. Sometimes, Rick drowned in the admiration he held towards her. “Is it you? Has he propositioned to you?”

A rueful smile appeared on Rick’s lips, momentarily deflecting his eyes from her, a hysteric amusement charged with guilt in his voice. What else could he do? Cry? He wasn’t that pathetic. Lucille didn’t deserve a pity party. “Is it that obvious?”

“Of course it is.” Lucille was a mirror of Rick; bitter - but not resentful - smile, voice wavering with laugh that was there only to stop her from crying. “He adores you. Some days you’re almost the only thing he’ll talk about. He’s even said your name in his sleep a few times. He… He loves you, Rick, I have no doubt about that.” She had to make a pause to take breath. She tilted her head an inch. “I don’t blame you, if that’s worrying you. I’m not happy about it, but I don’t blame you. But did you accept?”

“No” Rick assured, shaking his head. “He insisted, but I didn’t. I promise you that much.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Whatever hurt Lucille was feeling, she had already hidden it, buried under her returning relaxed attitude, although it wasn’t quite as convincing as before. Still, Rick didn’t feel attacked by anything but his own gut when she asked that thing that came invisibly towards him and slapped him in the face.

“Do you want to?”

At that, Rick once again was overwhelmed by hesitation. He started breathing through his mouth, his lungs demanding more air than his nose could provide, and his eyes became heavy, unable to leave the ground, even if every second he didn’t dare face Lucille felt like a punch on the base of his stomach, depriving him of the air he so direly needed.

“I don’t know” he eventually whispered, voice pathetically feeble, unable to look up. “I’m sorry, Lucille, I… I just don’t know.”

He heard steps approaching until the lower part of the woman’s body appeared in his vision. He felt a hand on his shoulder and a squeeze. It was a gentle gesture, the worst of recriminations.

“It’s alright, Rick. I told you, I don’t blame you. It’s him who has to stay loyal to me, not you” Lucille assured, her voice giving no doubt that there was no lie in her. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

And with that, she was gone. Rick listened until her steps disappeared in the distance. He took a deep breath, finally able to properly breath despite the persisting burn in his gut, gripped the bag tight, and looked up.

He turned around. He headed to his house, where his son and wife were waiting for him. A wife and a son he loved. Even if she dreamed of another man, and so did he. Even if the gap between them kept growing and neither of them knew how to close it, no matter how much they wanted. They were his home, just like Negan was Lucille’s. No matter how much he wanted, he couldn’t destroy them. Not like this, not messy and uncaring and out of impulse.

All he had to do was keep telling himself that the next time he and Negan were alone.

If only he could.


	6. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan has a side he has to repress, a side he’s not proud of. A side that outright scares him. At least he’s better at repressing it than at repressing other things.

Negan wanted to kill Shane.

Which, for the most part, wasn’t that big of a problem. Nothing to be worried about and nothing out of the usual. After all, Negan had wanted to kill plenty of people in his life; in a metaphorical sense, most of the time. He could still remember times when he saw someone’s face and his immediate response was having to force down an urge to merrily beat them down to a bloody pulp. Sometimes, he hadn’t bothered forcing down that need that was like a richly sweet alcohol on his tongue. If they had been such pieces of shit that they had pushed Negan to that point, then they deserved it, he told himself. He always felt good afterwards.

Some of those times he thought that, if given the chance, if he was completely sure he could get away with it, there were some individuals - he refused to call them people - he  _ would  _ kill, with his own two hands. Scum. Trash that was in this world to hurt others in the worst of ways and think nothing of it, with no purpose other than to make Earth a worse place and make bilis rise on the back of Negan’s throat when he thought of them. 

Yeah, there were people Negan would kill. But it was a thought, nothing else. A product of his anger, something to direct it into rather than something he actually wanted to do.

Negan hated Shane, he had that very fucking clear. Wanted to brass knuckle his face and knock him toothless, and would spit at him afterwards. He was more than aware that Shane was very far from being the worst person he’d met, though. Usually he’d roll his eyes and mutter to himself what a piece of shit the guy was, and that’d be it. He really didn’t think Shane was  _ that  _ bad of a guy. He was just an asshole and a bastard, like Negan himself. An affair with a friend’s wife and a fucked up way to show love. God knew that Negan didn’t have the right to look down at him for  _ that _ of all things.

But it was Rick, good good Rick, lovely kind Rick, perfect wonderful Rick, who had dug his way into Negan’s welcoming heart, that Shane was fucking over with his antics. The man’s life was falling apart, and Negan would be damned if he consciously acknowledged to himself his own part in that shitfest. Yeah, better to put it all on Shane. Fucking Shane. How the fuck did the bastard dare to call himself Rick’s friend, look him in the eye and smile at him, and then go behind his back to fuck his wife? When he was nothing but a limp-dicked bastard that refused to admit the existence of the closet he was in and deal with his feelings for Rick in a healthy way?

Rick was good at hiding it, even at pretending he wasn’t aware of what was going on, but it was fucking him up bad, this whole thing. And it was because of Shane.

Every time Rick allowed him to see that glimpse of pain, Negan knew he wanted to kill Shane. He wanted to see the man’s body lifeless and he wanted to be the cause of it.

Negan was scared.

It didn’t matter how much he chased it away; the shapeless, irreal idea started to take form, to give details. Negan knew himself to be smart, and knew that if he’d never believed he could get away with a murder, it was because he’d never applied himself to it. Now, he wondered what would be the best way to lure Shane to an appropriate location, or how he would do to efficiently hide a body. Or how to make something look like an accident. Or self-defense. Shane was an easy man to anger, after all, and in a proper scenario, it’d be easy to convince a judge that he’d had no choice. A few right words, Shane charging at him while Negan kept a cool head, and the fight wouldn’t be clear enough for a right witness to see that Negan’s reaction was a bit over the top for the punch Shane was aiming for. It’d be easy.

Rick would probably be devastated afterwards, always the kind and loyal man, even to a piece of shit like that. Negan would have to comfort him.

Negan was no saint, he was more than aware of that, he thought with a bitter smile. He was, first and foremost, an assholeish piece of shit and he had known so for a long, long time. Hell, he figured out Santa wasn’t real purely because he kept getting spoiled Christmas after Christmas, even when there was no possible way that he was on any Good Kids list.

But he was also aware that underneath it all, there was a good guy. He liked to tell himself that. Very rough around the edges, spiky like a cactus and burning if you touched him. Far too prone to making wrong choices and dragging others down with him - not that the knowledge ever stopped him - and not always willing to acknowledge it out loud. But if someone made the effort to look past that, there was a good man, buried under layers upon layers of leather, sarcasm, insults, alcohol, and self-indulgence.

Negan couldn’t keep clinging to that thought if he kept thinking about just how deeply satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around Shane’s throat and  _ press press press _ until he felt a bone snap, or Shane’s writhing body going still, all the while sporting a shiny, maniac grin. Worst of all? Negan knew he’d think nothing of it the next day. That it’d be fear of being caught and not guilt what would keep him up at night and make him sweat when talking to people about poor Shane’s terrible death, such an unfortunate event, what could have happened?

Negan didn’t want that. He wanted to be a good man. He didn’t want to come face to face with what he was able to do. And not over this personal shit. There were people who deserved death so much more than Shane did, for fuck’s sake. He had to get all that fucked up shit out of his mind.

He should just let things go as they were going. Who knew? Maybe, if things went along that way, then Rick’s marriage would soon fall apart. And if it fell apart, Rick wouldn’t be cheating, and if he wasn’t cheating, he’d have no reason to reject Negan. He’d be in pain after the divorce, Carl would surely go with Lori, and poor broken lonely Rick would fall right into Negan’s warm, comforting arms, and they would both have what they oh so very much wanted.

Negan felt himself about to throw up, thinking that that had crossed his mind. What kind of scum was he, fantasizing about someone he loved being in pain? No, he didn’t want that. He wanted Rick to be happy over everything else. It wasn’t right to aim for anything else. Lori was a good woman, too. Maybe in need of someone grabbing her and shaking some sense into her, but a good woman all the same, who had gotten dragged down by Shane. As much as Negan would like to see her out of the way so Rick would be his, that didn’t mean he wanted anything bad for her, or gone for good. Rick loved her, and the guilt Negan would feel would be corrosive poison over any happiness he might get over it, ruining it before he even got to enjoy it.

He didn’t want any of that. He had to forget about it. He’d get Rick anyway, and that was what he had to focus on.

That, and not killing Shane.

It was hard not to want to kill Shane, though, when the man played with everything he had to convince Negan he’d be so much better off as a corpse.

Shane had been the one to open the door for him and Lucille when the two of them came over to the Grimes’ house, and he’d been not-discreetly-at-all scowling at Negan since he came in, fifteen minutes ago, and Negan wasn’t making much of an effort to be any more polite or subtle than him, arms crossed, chin raised up, and eyes sending fire. Lucille didn’t know Shane more than having briefly seen him a couple times, but she picked up on the tension radiating in waves from her husband and had her hand on his knee, reminding him to have some self-restraint. Rick was on an armchair, pretending not to pick up on the tension in the room.

And Lori? Lori was sitting next to Shane, at a proper distance, but Negan could see the arm on her shoulders as if it was actually there. She was looking at her lap, conflicted, and Shane looked smug, when he wasn’t glaring at Negan. Negan seethed, gritted his teeth, and had to cling onto his wife’s hand to remind himself he had to keep going with the conversation instead of knocking the fucker out. How the fuck did he dare? How did he dare even show up in that house?

The reason they all happened to be visiting? Lori found out she was pregnant just yesterday. And except Lucille, who blissfully hadn’t been dragged into this particular shitstorm, everyone in the room knew that the baby might have black hair and brown eyes instead of curls and blue ones.

Negan’s presence must have bursted whatever fantasy Shane might have had of belonging in the household, because it wasn’t long before he stood up and grumbled that he needed to go. He was far too warm when saying goodbye to Lori, he had something Negan could only assume was intended to be some weird mix of smug and charming for Rick - Negan really had problems understanding how the man had even lost his virginity, if that was his version of seductive - and he almost looked like he would spit at Negan when it was his turn. He only did the barest attempt to feign interest when he addressed Lucille.

_ You can’t kill him _ , Negan reminded himself, biting down on the inside of his cheek to the point of drawing blood as he waited for the man to disappear from his sight.  _ Not here with so many witnesses, at least. _

The moment Shane was out and the door closed, Negan felt most of the tension leave the room. Or maybe that was just him, possibly. His shoulders stopped being a square, taking on a more natural, rounded shape, and he sighed under his breath as a small smile appeared on his lips. So maybe the shit was still going on, but at least the only one he hated on the whole equation was out of sight. Kinda helped a guy relax.

He could see how the tension left Rick as well. Not quite as much as Negan, but he did relax, and the next smile he gave was definitely less forced. For a few minutes the conversation kept flowing, growing as carefree as it could be with a man with his cheating wife, a woman with her cheating husband, and two married men undeniably attracted to one another.

Circumstances considered, Negan thought it was going pretty damn good.

It wasn’t long before the question of food was brought up. Rick commented that Negan and Lucille had fed the Grimes more than a few times, so it was more than fair that they stayed and were fed for once. He was ready to go do the cooking, then Lori hummed that she would rather do it herself and make sure no one was poisoned, but Rick freaked out at the thought of his pregnant wife cooking. Even if it was a two weeks pregnancy. It was better that way, Negan thought with a snort. Neither of them was a brilliant chef in any case.

In the end, Lucille offered to go do it. It didn’t matter the assurance that she actually enjoyed cooking every now and then, Rick was opposed to it, but in the end they reached a truce with the decision that Lucille would cook with Rick’s assistance. They said they’d be back soon, and then Lori and Negan were alone in the room.

Silence grew thicker again, not nearly as tense as when Shane was there, but still noticeable. For a few moments Negan was silent, sucking on his lower lip, fingers drumming on his knee, and stealing occasional glances at Lori. She smiled awkwardly at him, then mimicked him and avoided his eyes. Negan gave it three minutes and then he stood up with a heavy sigh, changing his seat to the armchair Rick had occupied, closer to her.

He knew it would at least slow down his endgame, but he decided he would do it all the same. Lori was in need of having some common sense shaken into her, after all, and Negan was shameless enough to openly grab her shoulders and start shaking.

“Let’s not beat around the damn bush here, sweetie” he started, giving her a somewhat tired smile. He nodded towards her belly. “Got a cake on the oven, huh? Gonna be cute and chubby as fuck.”

“I’m sure of it” Lori replied, playful smile softly returning to her lips as her hand subconsciously went to her stomach. There wasn’t any bump there yet, but the adoration was very much undeniable. “Don’t tell me you’ve heard of that just now?”

“I’m dumb, Lori, but not that much. It’s just, and here comes the thing, I was wondering whether you know this little, secondary, silly detail I’m dying to know. Do you know who’s the baby daddy? Is it mister Charming Southern Curls, or is it Asshole McJerk Walsh?”

It was immediate; Lori’s face lost any semblance of good mood she might have had, replaced by pale shock. Her wide eyes settled on Negan as she moved back a few inches. She was outright terrified, and Negan had no choice but to let out a sad, pitying, rueful laugh.

“What- Do you- Since when- How do you- Do you know about…?”

“Lori, Lori, Lori, my sweet little sunflower. Of fucking course I know. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not that obvious, I’m just creepily good at reading people. And because he  _ is _ that obvious. If you were gonna step out, why did it have to be with someone who’s got a goddamn brick instead of grey matter?  But I digress. Yeah, Lori, I know. Question is, do you?”

Lori was silent for a long long moment. Negan didn’t mind; he did just drop a bit of a bomb on her, she was entitled to a moment to readjust a thing or two in her head. All in all, she regained her composure rather quickly, and Negan hummed and raised his eyebrow, impressed. She nibbled on her lower lip and shook her head.

“I wish I did, but I don’t.”

“Alright, fair enough. I’d advise to be very careful with the condoms, but hell, it’s sort of late for that, isn’t it? Maybe next time. Anyway. Baby daddy. Do you at least know who you want it to be?”

“Rick.” Lori raised her face again, shame apparently gone for a moment, and her eyes were firm and unwavering. She nodded. “I hope with everything I’ve got it’s Rick.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed in approval as he leaned back and a pleased smirk shaped his features. That was good. Very very good. Partially because of how quickly Lori had dismissed any desire to be tied down to Shane any more than she already was, he wasn’t gonna lie to himself, but only partially. It was good to see she knew who her best interest was.

“Good. You just earned twenty smart points there, Lori. You should do just that, then. If Shane asks, say it’s Rick’s. Don’t give in to any paternity test, because it’s gonna matter shit, Rick’s the happy daddy in either case. You’re gonna have to stop fucking when that belly gets stuffed, so my advice is that if by then you haven’t told officer-not-friendly to fuck off, you use that to finish this thing you two got going on and go back to good wholesome wife. Kinda dull, maybe, but it’s the good choice.”

Lori nodded, slow and silent, eyes cast down and hands joined nervously in her lap, thumbs picking at one another. She sighed, deep and tired, after giving Negan an insecure, almost fearful look.

“Does Rick know too?” she asked, weak and barely audible.

_ ‘Honey, he’s good, not dumb’ _ Negan wanted to say with a roll of his eyes, but decided against it. He knew she was going through a complicated enough moment as it was, without needing him to rub it in her face. Besides, it wasn’t like he had never cheated thinking he was discreet and careful while he had Lucille crying at home. Not that he knew for a fact she’d cried, but it was all too easy to imagine. A reminder to himself of just how shitty he was.

He stood up and rolled his neck. “No idea, I’m afraid. Now, you can choose to hide it from him risking the chance he already knows and let him know you’re not being truthful with him, or you can tell him and risk him not knowing and putting this shit between the two of you. Your choice.” He pointed to the kitchen. “You coming? Wanna see what they’re gonna feed us.”

Lori nodded weakly, pale and feeble. “In a moment.”

Negan gave her one last look, full of sympathy, and put her hand on her head. Then he went to the kitchen with the two people he loved, leaving Lori alone with her thoughts and nothing else.


	7. Long overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They should have had this conversation long ago. They would have, if she had dared.

Lori’s eyes landed anywhere but her husband’s side of the bed as she got ready for the night. She was silent, quiet, almost as if she feared making any noise other than clothes coming off and her pajamas coming on. Rick was silent, too, and when his wife slipped into bed next to him, he only made a low hum of acknowledgement. They reached for each other, put a light kiss on each other’s lips, and then they came apart. Lori turned around, giving him her back, and fell asleep.

Except she couldn’t. Rick wasn’t going to sleep yet. He was reading a book, and the light of his bedside lamp, weak as it was, cast sharp lights and shadows on the wall Lori was facing, that she couldn’t stop staring at. The turning of the page every few minutes felt much louder than it had any right to be, and Lori found herself awaiting for the next moment she heard it, almost holding her breath until it came. She could hear Rick’s breathing, too, forming a steady rhythm, and Lori tried to ever out hers with his. Every time she did it, it lasted for only a second and then she was faced with the fact that Rick breathed just a tad slower, and unless she purposefully slowed down, she’d come out of sync.

It was definitely keeping her from falling asleep. It was definitely keeping her from thinking of other things, too.

Did Rick know?

She’d have to risk it and ask, Negan had said, and at the moment Lori had decided that she would. In the best of cases, there was nothing to lose. In the worst of cases, Rick deserved to know either way, she told herself, and he’d be entitled to the reaction that came afterwards, whatever it was. So it was an easy choice, really. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

Still, she hadn’t been able to shape the words all day. Now all she had to do was turn around and say it, but even if she wanted to, her mind never decided to take that last step and just  _ do it _ , choosing instead to stay still. Paralyzed. Afraid.

She could play along. If Rick knew, he was definitely playing along too, and if he didn’t, he’d never need to know there was any playing at all. Things could keep going forward as they were, and eventually this would all be something that she’d put behind and be ashamed of, in the depths of her mind, but couldn’t harm her.

But would it really be like that? Lori had tried to tell her to stop enough times as it was, and she was no closer to talking any sense into herself as she’d been months ago, when it first started. She couldn’t, not without something marking a difference, telling apart a before and an after. Something that told her that Shane was something she couldn’t allow herself to go back into, unless she was ready to give up everything else.

There would be no difference, unless she knew for sure that Rick knew. Unless every time she looked at Shane she could feel Rick’s thoughts about it, quiet but there all the same.

Lori swallowed hard. Just as she was about to open her lips, Rick’s lamp turned off. Lori felt him accommodate himself, and then it was back to his breathing and nothing else.

Maybe tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow, first hour, before either of them even left the bedroom. Except she knew that was a lie. She knew that if she let the night pass, come morning the resolution she’d come to would vanish into that whirlwind of doubt and shame, and she couldn’t reach it again.

Lori’s heart was loud and hard on her ears. She breathed deeply.

“I’ve been sleeping with Shane.”

The world went quiet. Their mixed breathings, the only sounds in the bedroom up to then, both disappeared, and there was no noise at all around them. Lori’s heartbeat, faster and harder than before, so quick that it almost was a continuous uninterrupted noise, reached its peak when Rick moved behind her to sit up, back against the headboard, and the lamp clicked on.

There was a long, long moment in which nothing happened. Forcing herself to stay composed, Lori turned around to face him, and saw her husband with his eyes cast down at his lap, lost, almost hollow. Lori held her breath, waiting for an answer, any answer.

“Rick?”

“I know.”

She thought she was ready for it. She thought it was the best outcome. Still, those two simple, barely audible words pierced straight through her, the resignation in them very nearly bringing her down to sobs.

Rick had known and he had said nothing. He’d just smiled and pretended everything was alright and he’d known Lori was going behind his back. He hadn’t screamed at her, told her to leave, or left her behind. He’d taken it all, and now Lori knew. She had thought the guilt was suffocating before. She was drowning in it now.

She realized that tears were actually forming at the edges of her eyes when she sat up too. She tried to speak, but she realized she didn’t know what she could say. An excuse? Surely she wasn’t that shameless. She’d done it, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to say that she’d had a good reason, or that she wasn’t in the wrong. She was. She knew it. It hadn’t been enough to stop her, but she’d known from the very first moment.

“I’m sorry” she said, quiet. She stopped herself from crying out loud, or from begging. She wasn’t gonna make it about herself seeking forgiveness, and specially not now of all moments. She was sorry, and that’s all she wanted to say. If Rick accepted it or not, that wasn’t the concern right now.

Rick didn’t acknowledge her, or even look her way. He licked his lips. “Are you in love with him?”

“No.” Lori shook her head. “He is… I like him, most of the time. I’m aware how awful he can be, but I do. I feel comfortable with him. I appreciate him, and I care about him, but I don’t imagine building with him what I’ve done with you. He’s not cut out for it, and I don’t want it. No, Rick, I’m not in love with him.”

She hoped he believed her. It was the truth, but she couldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust her. Once again, he didn’t really acknowledge her. His eyes just kept falling heavy down at his own body, his breath slow and deep.

It took a very long moment for him to say anything.

“Negan wants me to sleep with him.”

Now that was something she wasn’t expecting, of all things. Lori blinked a handful times, confused, and when the words sank in, her eyes opened wide.

Negan. With Rick. She wouldn’t have thought it, but now that the idea was presented in front of her, she could see it, clear as day. Negan was all over Rick all the time to an almost concerning level, as if Rick was the man’s only support in this world even when his wife was right there. Lori had taken it only as part of the man’s personality, but if what Rick said was true, then Lori had no problems seeing it as desire. It made sense, even.

It was worrying, in an hypocritical way. But surely Rick would never…? Why was he saying it now of all moments, then?

“I haven’t.” Rick’s face finally rose, but he looked at the wall in front of him, rather than his wife. She felt a rush of relief for only a moment. “But I want to. I’m in love with him.”

And before Lori could say anything else, before she could gather her thoughts enough to form an answer, he flipped around, lying down with his back to her, and turned the lamp off. Darkness surrounded them.

It took a few minutes for Lori, quiet as she could be, slid down to a lying position too. She could see the vague shape of Rick’s shoulders in the darkness, rising and falling, captivating her. There were so many things her mind should be on, but right now, it was all a quiet blank. It was peaceful, in a way. Like something had settled, for better or worse. Or something had been lifted, at the very least.

Rick turned onto his stomach. One of his hands lied between the two of them, halfway to Lori.

She looked at it. She didn’t know if Rick was awake. She didn’t know if the gesture was meant.

She reached her hand out to his, stopping a few inches apart, and then she fell asleep. If their hands would touch during the night, neither of them knew yet.


	8. Giving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick knew it was gonna happen, sooner or later. He couldn't have fought it forever.

“Baby, baby, oh Rick, my sweet, sweet, sweet baby.”

“Negan.”

“It’s alright, Rick, I promise. I fucking promise you that. I know you’re still processing it, it’s natural, but I promise it’s alright. Oh, Rick Rick Rick…”

“Negan, please.”

“I knew it, I fucking knew it. You gotta give me that much, baby. I told you again and again and again and you wouldn’t listen to me, and now, look at this. This shit is  _ rich _ , don’t you think?”

“Can you be quiet for just a moment, please?”

“Fuck, I love you. I love you to hell and back and down there again. My sweet boy, so good, so kind. This is perfect, Rick, you gotta admit it. Say it. Say I was right, say you should have got the stick outta your ass and just listen to me from the beginning. C’mon, baby, baby, c’mon.”

Rick grunted and hit Negan’s side, or whatever he could reach, with his elbow, while his other hand kept massaging his brow. Negan didn’t seem to mind the hit that much, but at least, he went quiet. And yet, he managed to be loud and make Rick hear his thoughts without as much as a single word.

Negan’s naked arms were snaked around Rick’s naked torso, pushing him back against Negan’s firm, bare chest. Their legs were laced together, warm skin brushing against warm skin with every little shift Negan made. Negan was the one moving, caressing everywhere he could reach and kissing all over Rick’s neck and shoulder, touching with his soft lips and warm tongue and gentle, playful teeth. Rick, not so much. Even though he felt the clear, consuming urge to just close his eyes and sink into the pit that was the affection Negan was offering him, get lost in it and never come back, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to do it.

Instead, he remained wide-eyed and staring at the vague shape of the wall in the darkness of the room, stiff and very still, refusing to acknowledge that Negan’s attempts to have him melting into his embrace just like he had earlier were working.

He had slept with Negan.

He had finally done it, he had given in.

He had cheated on his wife.

And while a part of the guilt that made him feel like his stomach was gone, like Rick wouldn’t ever be able to feel complete again, was because of it, a bigger part was because he didn’t feel nearly guilty enough.

“Negan, please… I just need a moment to think. Please be still for five minutes, alright?”

“Ah, but you don’t want that… Nope, baby, you can’t bullshit me, not after this. I know you too damn well for that. You just want me to keep kissing you… like this… again… and again… and again… C’mon, Rick, let yourself live a little, turn around and give me a good big kiss. You know you wanna. You wanna do it for daddy.”

“Have you considered that maybe this isn’t as easy for me as it is for you?” Rick hissed through gritted teeth, poison almost dripping from his voice. “You’re used to cheating on Lucille, aren’t you? No big deal, why would it be? It’s not like it’s something bad. For fuck’s sake, Negan, have some perspective. I’m new to feeling like a piece of shit.”

He felt Negan’s embrace go stiff around him, and the man’s nonstop sweet cooing into his ear came to a stop. Rick tensed as well, and he thought that maybe Negan was about to kick him out of the bed. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was easier. He’d get to talk some sense into himself and try to pretend it wouldn’t crush him to tiny little pieces.

Instead, he felt the man do a half-hearted shrug behind him before proceeding with his kisses, right under Rick’s ear. His arms went lax again, fingertips caressing all over Rick’s torso with no apparent intention to ever let go.

“Fair enough. I  _ am _ used to being a piece of shit. You’d be surprised the kind of stuff you can get used to. But allow me to remind you, mister high and mighty, that you have no right to look down at me anymore, not after the way you’ve taken my dick. You’re a filthy, filthy, filthy boy. My beautiful nasty boy.” Negan tilted Rick’s face backwards and marked his last word with a kiss on his lips. Despite his general attitude, Rick didn’t hesitate in kissing back.

Once he was free of Negan’s grasp, he buried his face on the pillow and groaned in frustration. Negan emitted a hum of sympathy and rubbed his shoulders soothingly.

“It’s okay, baby, it is. You were fucking entitled to this. You’ve been getting the short end of the stick for a while, it was about damn time you did something about it.”

“Don’t you try to convince me this isn’t wrong. It is. I just… Oh my god, Lori-”

“Lori’s been cheating on you for a fucking long time, Rick” Negan cut him, voice sharp and cutting all of sudden. “Yeah, yeah, I like her too, she’s not a bad woman, but still. She’s been making some fucking awful decisions, and you don’t gotta feel bad for being fed up with it. Be kinder to yourself, Rick. You deserve this.”

“Of course you’d say that. You’re such a neutral part in this” Rick grumbled under his breath, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hands. “She’s sorry for it, I think she’s cut it off, and still… Here I am. I just… I just fucking couldn’t fight it anymore. I wanted it. And still it’s not right. And Lucille? Fuck, Negan, I’m her friend. How am I supposed to look her in the eye now?”

Negan went quiet. He didn’t acknowledge Rick’s last words. “Would you say you regret this, then, Rick?”

“I regretted it before doing it. I’ve been regretting it since the first time I realized I wanted it.”

After a long pause, Negan tightened his hold on Rick, but instead of lazy and playful, it felt clingy this time. He spoke directly on Rick’s ear, a whisper he could barely make out.

“This is a mistake, then. I’m a mistake.”

Rick shook his head. “A bad idea? Sure. A mistake? No. Sleeping with someone isn’t a mistake, it’s a choice. I walked in knowing full well what I was doing, I knew it was wrong, and I still did it. I know I’d do it again, because I still want it.” Rick raised Negan’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. Immediately Negan was back to raining kisses and soft murmurs all over him, as if trying to wash away any hint of doubt that might be lying on his skin.

For a good while, Rick let Negan keep showering love over him, not bothering to hide how loose and happy it made him feel, hums that were almost like purring coming out of his chest. Eventually, Negan made him turn around, and Rick was left looking into Negan’s eyes, loving in a borderline feverish way, and let the man draw him in for a kiss. Negan happily moaned, hands cupping Rick’s jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

“I love you, Rick” he whispered, hot breath hitting Rick’s mouth. Rick smiled, getting over his brief moment of hesitation.

“Me too.”

“What are you gonna do now, Rick?”

“Hm? About what?”

“All of this. Me. Lori. You gotta do something.”

Rick leaned a few inches back, eyebrow crooked. “I don’t see what I gotta do.”

Negan, in response, frowned. “Rick, if you don’t love her, you don’t gotta stay with her. You don’t have to be on bad terms, you could-”

“Who says I don’t love her?”

Negan blinked a couple times at Rick, face blank. Then he snorted and made a lazy gesture to his own chest, before snaking his hand around Rick’s body to squeeze a handful of his ass.

“Baby, don’t be fucking stubborn. You wouldn’t be here if you did.”

Rick’s jaw went tense and his eyes narrowed. “I’m guessing you don’t love Lucille, then, if that’s the case.”

And just as he’d thought, Negan’s mouth immediately fell shut, his jaw rolling tensely and his half-pissed glare locked on Rick, and Rick could so easily see that Negan was aching to tell him to fuck off but knew he was better off silent. Rick allowed himself a smirk that had an undeniable edge of bitterness, and when he pressed closer to Negan, burying his face in his neck, the man didn’t waste a second taking him in.

“I don’t wanna leave Lori just like you don’t wanna leave Lucille. I can’t, either, specially not now. Carl is so young still, and with the baby coming… It’s my baby, Negan. You can’t seriously expect me to leave that behind.”

“It might be Shane’s.”

“I don’t care. Even if it is, I still love that baby. And I love Lori. I’m not gonna leave her single when she’s got a whole pregnancy ahead. You know I’m not that kind of man.”

“No, you’re not” Negan muttered, his voice frustrated, but simultaneously incredibly soft and fond. Rick felt a kiss on the top of his head, and for a few moments, it was silence.

Eventually, Negan broke it. “What the hell do we do, then?”

Rick sighed, clinging closer to Negan and squeezing his eyes shut so hard it almost pained him. Negan was the one who never made things complicated, always enjoyed things first and thought of consequences later. Why had he chosen this time of all to get insightful? Why couldn’t he let Rick have what he needed and just lie down for an hour without listening to all the gears that turned and turned in his mind?

“I don’t know, Negan, I honestly don’t know.”


	9. Not anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane’s starting to realize that maybe he’s ruined more things for himself than he’d ever wanted to, and maybe it’s too late to fix it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is between the two previous one, after chapter 7 and before chapter 8. I'm not sure if I managed to make that clear in the chapter, so saying it here. Now, please go ahead and enjoy!

Shane was seeing red. Everything was in shades of blood red, burgundy, scarlet, with maybe some shades of pink or purple thrown in there. And the only thing he could think of that didn’t look like it was bloodied up was Rick, and the only thing he he could feel was the taste of wanting so bad to empty all of that red on him so he would be as bloodied up as the rest of everything.

Shane was more pissed off than he remembered being in a long, long, long time, and Rick was to blame for it, and he was gonna pay for it.

Most likely, at least. Shane didn’t really know what he was going to do. He didn’t have anything clear in his mind right now, actually, other than driving his car safe enough to not crash into anything or anyone. Every few seconds, his eyes wandered to the passenger seat, where his phone rested. Every time, he expected to see the light telling him he had a new message or a call, and every time, he found nothing. He gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter, his fingers becoming white around it. He’d called Rick ten times, and sent him over twenty texts, and he’d gotten nothing back. He started shaking and had to breathe deeply to calm himself down. Rick had no right. He was his friend, and if Shane asked for his attention, Rick _had to give it_ , no matter what. If he didn’t do it willingly, then Shane would have to force him to.

Lori wasn’t contacting him back either, but Shane was more relaxed about that one. She would, sooner rather than later. Of that, he was sure. He didn’t like her not answering, oh hell no he didn’t, but he didn’t take as much offense. She’d been difficult before, and every single time, she ended right back into his arms, protected and loved, with the attention she deserved. This time would be no different. No, she wasn’t the problem. The problem was Rick.

It wasn’t the first time Lori said she regretted what they were doing, that they should end it. Empty words, every time, said just as a reminder to herself that she was aware of what she was doing, that she wasn’t all that shameless. But up until now, she’d never actually tried to stop seeing him, never let more than a couple days pass without them meeting, never gave him the silent treatment. That was new, and Shane knew, he _knew_ , that it had to be because of Rick.

Lori mattered too much for him to just let her go like that. If he had to knock into Rick the desire to take back whatever he’d told her to make her act like this, then he would.

(He didn’t give much thought to the fact that if Rick had done anything like that, it was because he knew. He didn’t let himself think that his best friend knew - how long had he known? - that he’d gone and stabbed him on the back like this. There was only so much Shane could be anxious about at this given moment.)

He barely parked the car properly, and he huffed angrily as he got out and slammed the door closed. He glared at the Grimes’ house for a long moment, wondering if he could set it on fire with just his eyes. Lori would have to go somewhere if that happened, and Shane would be more than willing to forgive her for being difficult, welcome her in his place. Little Carl, too. And Rick? Shane sneered. For all he knew, he’d want to stay at Negan’s, but Shane wouldn’t allow that. Rick needed Shane to steer him away from bad influences. He could allow Rick to stay with him, would force him to, if he needed to. Wouldn’t that be a nice picture? Shane, Lori, and Rick, under the same roof, and maybe-

Shane forced the thought away by starting walking towards the house, because he didn’t want to know where it was going. That made him even more pissed off than he already was, and he let it all out but bringing his fist to the door and punching it repeatedly, more than knocking on it.

A few seconds passed, and Shane punched the door again. Another few seconds, and again, and again, and again. He wasn’t gonna be kept waiting. When the door finally opened and Shane was met with Rick’s face, he was about to do it again, and it was pure dumb luck that he didn’t sock Rick in the face. Rick took him in, startled, but within seconds he went completely blank and unreadable. Shane, for his part, felt his scowl become slightly less pronounced now that he was actually looking at his best friend.

Silence hanged for a moment before Rick said, dry as summer, “Lori isn’t home” and started closing the door on him.

“Hey, hey!” Shane put his hand on said door and pushed it open, pushing Rick backwards in the process. “Who says I’m here to see Lori? Maybe I came to see you.”

“It’s all you ever come around here for anymore” Rick replied, crossing his arms, eyes narrowed. “It’s been a couple months since the last time we hanged out outside of work.”

Shane blinked a couple times, hummed to himself trying to remember when the last time was, and then shrugged it off. Didn’t matter. His scowl came back in full force and somehow, he managed to smirk through it, something patronizing and mocking.

“Well, Rick, you know why that is, don’t you?” Rick didn’t answer. He just narrowed his eyes further, lips going back in a little sneer that let Shane see the barest hint of teeth. He smirked wider and refused to examine why such a look on Rick’s face, directed at _him_ , made him want to slam his head into the wall until he passed out. “Yeah, you do.”

“I think you should leave now, Shane. I told you, she’s not home, so you don’t got any reason to be here. Fuck off.”

“What did you say to me?” Shane inquired, growled, as he once more put his hand on the door to stop Rick from closing it, this time stepping inside in the process. “Watch your mouth, Rick. One of these days you’re gonna start cursing as much as that asshole Negan.”

For a moment, all Rick did was stare, something cold and angry that Shane had barely ever seen in Rick’s face, and never, ever directed at him. Rick stepped forward, and Shane had to repress the need to step back, because he _most definitely_ wasn’t feeling intimidated by Rick. That would be ridiculous, right? No way. Shane swallowed down any apprehension Rick might be causing on him and narrowed his eyes, sneering to dare Rick to do anything.

“What do you want, Shane?” Rick asked, almost a whisper cutting through the solid tension between them. The words adhered to Shane’s skin and made goosebumps come up all over it.

“I want to know what you’ve told Lori to keep her away from me.”

“I haven’t done anything to keep her away from you, Shane. I just told her that I know, because I have the goddamn right to let her know if I want to and because she brought it up first, before you start saying shit about it. I haven’t told her to do anything about it. If she’s stopped seeing you since then, that’s her choice.”

“Bullshit” Shane growled under his breath, pushing Rick against a wall and closing the distance to breathe into his face, almost ready to bite the man’s face off. “Tell her you don’t mind if she keeps coming to me.”

“But I do mind, Shane.”

“I treat her better than you ever have, Rick.”

“She doesn’t wanna see you. Grow up and accept it. If I can live with my wife having cheated on me, you can live with your coworker’s wife not sleeping with you anymore.”

_Coworker…? That’s it?_

Shane glared into Rick’s eyes for a long moment, before he huffed and turned around, taking a few steps away and then turning again, pointing at Rick, who was still impassible except for that spark of frozen fire.

“Look, Rick, this has gotten under your skin, I get it, but hell, be realistic. Lori’s cheated on you with me. Why do you still want to go ahead with this marriage? Be angry, be hurt, but face the facts. You’re into this much more than she is.” He was met with silence. He gritted his teeth. “Goddammit! Don’t give me this shit!”

He’d gotten all up on Rick’s face all over again. Calmly, Rick put his hand on Shane’s chest and pushed him backwards. He rolled his neck, looked down, and then spoke as if it was the most casual conversation he could have.

“I have no right to look down at her for that. I’m to blame too.”

With that, Shane’s anger left in its entirety, leaving puzzlement as all its remains. His mouth hung half-open as he stared. Rick? No. Impossible. Rick would never- He was _good_. The man most unable to ever willingly do anything that wasn’t proper and good. He couldn’t… Shane looked at him like it was the first time.

“Rick, have you cheated?”

“I haven’t. But I’ve wanted to. I’ve fallen in love.”

_Me. Please, please Rick, please tell me you’re in love with me._

“W- Who?”

At that, Rick actually faltered, looking insecure for the first time since Shane walked in. He had the solid impression that Rick was avoiding his eyes rather than denying him the right to look at them, and he swallowed thickly before looking up. When he did, he was as cold and detached as earlier, so Shane was left to wonder if he’d made it up. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment until Rick finally spoke, firm, but with the barest hint of trembling underneath.

“Negan.”

Silence.

Shane stared blankly.

Rick stared back, pretending his jaw wasn’t shaking just a little bit.

“Rick, you… You’re not a fag.”

And with that, any hint of insecurity or fear was buried again under coldness and mostly-controlled anger.

“I really would prefer if you didn’t use that word, Walsh. But yes, I’m a fag. I feel like kissing men every now and then. Disgusting, right? You’ve spent so much time with me, you must feel so gross right now, having been exposed to me so many times. Poor little Shane.”

Shane was too busy gaping repeatedly to fully register Rick’s words, let alone the poison that covered them. He just… stared, and stared, and stared. Something in his mind made click, and he didn’t want to think of what it was, but that was partly because his mind had just shut down. There was something else driving.

One moment, two moments, and the next thing Shane knew was that he was on top of Rick, pressing his body between his own and the wall, hands snaking around him and lips and tongue working desperately against Rick’s unresponsive ones. He panted, gasped, breathing shakily between kiss and kiss, feeling like he was simultaneously suffocating and breathing properly for the first time in years.

God, Rick’s lips tasted good, his body felt right. Shane moaned, he rolled his hips into Rick because he was burning burning _burning_ he’d been burning for so long and Rick was fresh water and he needed needed _needed_ to sink and his mind was gone but it was screaming but he wasn’t listening to it and-

Rick’s hands were pushing at his shoulders. Shane didn’t pay them any mind. Rick pushed harder, and Shane still didn’t acknowledge it. Rick’s lips finally moved, just to bite down on Shane’s tongue. He yelped, momentarily brought back to reality, and that was the moment Rick took to finally push him a good four feet away.

Shane’s tongue hurt, but his lips were tingling and he wanted more. He panted deeply, eyes blown wide and taking Rick in, who for the first time was completely out of cool, looking back at Shane with confusion and - hurt? Why hurt?

Shane’s mind was starting to come to terms with what he had just done, was starting to acknowledge so many things he’d have killed to delete from his memory forever, and so much suddenly made sense, and he was euphoric, but he was also terrified and angry, and he understood so many things now. But while he could, he was gonna avoid that by focusing on the here and now.

“Rick, I-”

“I used to be in love with you” Rick interrupted, breathless, sounding utterly weak. “So much, Shane, I used to think the world of you. I would have dated you, I would have kissed you, I would have done everything with you, all you wanted me to. You just had to ask, because I was too afraid. Even after I started dating Lori, for a couple months, before I got over it. And then you started making these comments, about men who liked men… It hurt. It fucking hurt, Shane. You don’t know how much.”

“I’m so-”

“But I still loved you, as my best friend, as my brother. I didn’t think that could change, not ever, no matter what. And believe me, you’ve done so many shitty things, it was hard, but it didn’t change. But then, then you betrayed me. Knowingly, willingly, betrayed me. How could you get involved with Lori, Shane? With my wife, behind my back? I don’t think anything’s ever hurt me as much as that. And it was you. Don’t lie to me. I know her, and I know you, and I know you’re not good, no matter how much I’d like to think otherwise. If someone pushed for it, it was you. Am I wrong? Tell me if I’m wrong, Shane. Please.”

All Shane could do was remain silent, feeling like he was gonna throw up. Rick laughed weakly, a completely broken, joyless sound.

“Thought so. And now you come and kiss me. Do you realize how completely fucked that is?”

Shane stepped forward. “Rick, I- Let me-”

Rick raised his hand. He wasn’t even touching Shane, but he couldn’t have taken another step if his life depended on it.

“You were my first love, Shane. Now I don’t know if you’re even my friend at all. Please, leave.”

Rick’s words were weaker and weaker with every second that passed, the strength and resolution replaced by shaking. Shane tried to reach him, but he guessed that he must have been getting pretty weak himself, because when Rick pushed him towards the door, he didn’t have any strength to fight him. When he found himself on the street, dumbly looking at Rick’s closed door, it finally hit him. Everything, all at once.

He might have hated himself and every single choice he’d ever taken, in that moment.

Later, that night, he checked his phone, every few minutes. He didn’t have a single reply from Rick, and none from Lori, either. He’d spent the entire day messaging them, calling them, and nothing.

He was in love with Lori, but he was in love with Rick, too. He knew that now- No, he could admit that now. He’d always known. He needed them both, and he had neither.

He _knew_ he hated himself and every single choice he’d ever taken, in that moment.


	10. Never again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a point where they can't go further. Everyone has a point of enough is enough.

Lucille had heard Negan when he’d opened the door, a few too many moments ago for it to be any sort of casual or natural. She could feel him right there on the doorway to their bedroom, silent, still, staring at her. She wasn’t looking at him, didn’t intend to, and still she could picture the blank look on his face that betrayed just the barest hint of shock and fear. She’d known him long and deep enough to not need to put her senses on him to know exactly what he was doing, whether he was in the same room, the same house, or right across town, on some bar or some friend’s bedroom.

She didn’t stop what she was doing on his account. She didn’t acknowledge him at all.

She just kept packing her things into her suitcase.

Silence stretched. Tension became thicker and thicker by the second, menacing to drown both of them. Lucille kept going, no matter what.

In the end, it was him who spoke, in a quiet, barely-hidden shaky voice. “Lucille. Lucille, baby, what are you doing?”

Lucille’s movements faltered, just for a fraction of a second. She resumed them before Negan had any chance to see any sign of weakness in her resolve.

“In my defense I’ll say that I didn’t plan to leave without telling you first” she mused, pressing a handful of her shirts under some of her favorite books. “I wanted it to be ready by the time you came home, is all. I wasn’t going to give you any long speech, and I’m not going to do it now either. But I thought I should at least try not to just disappear on you.”

“Lucille” Negan mused as he walked into the room. “Lucille, Lucy, my sweetheart, my life, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing, Negan. Don’t ask stupid questions. You’re smarter than that.”

A series of short, unintelligible sounds came from the direction of Lucille’s husband. A quick look at him confirmed what she’d already pictured, the image on Negan gaping again and again as his eyes widened beyond fear. She tore her gaze away before it started hurting. She moved on to the bathroom.

“I will be at my brother’s place” she mused, frowning slightly as she tried to figure out how to put her toiletries in the suitcase in a way that would let her close it afterwards. It had all fit in before, with more things inside, a few times Negan had taken her on week-long trips to some nice place when he was feeling too guilty and he needed to make it go quiet, or she was feeling too damaged and he needed to make her forget. “I can’t take all my things in one time. I’ll be back sooner or later for the rest, but I think I’m going to need some time before I can bring myself to come back for it.”

“B- But- I don’t- Why are you- Just wait- Lucille, why?”

With that, she finally went still. She stayed as she was for a long, long moment, eyes fixed on the wall in front of her. Slowly she stood straight, turned to Negan, and crossed her arms. She sighed, tired. Her eyes didn’t meet her husband’s; they stayed firmly set on his chin.

“Don’t do that shit to me, Negan. You know why. There’s a point where even I can’t take it anymore, and I’m long past it. No, no, shut up. Don’t you dare ask me what I’m talking about. You don’t have any right to do that to me. You think you’re that smooth about it? You think I’m stupid? Hell, I probably am, doing this just now, but I’m not that stupid. I knew it, I knew it every single time. Or at least I hope it was every single time. I guess there must have been a good handful times I didn’t notice at all. It probably was better for both of us that way.” 

Up until this point Negan had stayed still, stiff, a terrified soldier in front of his commander, his wide, shaking eyes the clear proof of it. Now, however, with a pained whine that was more animal than human, he moved into the bedroom, desperate hands reaching out to close on Lucille’s shoulders before she firmly moved back, leaving his imploring hands uselessly grasping at empty air.

“Lucille, Lucille, Lucille my love” he chanted, lost and yearning, “I need you.”

Lucille couldn’t help it; a short burst of frozen laugh came out of her, pretty much throwing icicles at Negan and making him step back with a pained, confused expression. “Really? Do you, Negan? Or is that something you just say because it’s the thing to do? Far as I’ve seen, you don’t need me.”

“But I do!” Negan was stepping forward again, looking desperate to reach for Lucille’s face as if he wanted to cup it, but stopping himself and deciding to respect her boundaries. His lips hanged open, a tiny slit through which slightly labored pants were starting to come out. “I do, I do, I very fucking much do. I mean, fuck, look at me and look at you. I’m a goddamn mess, and you’re perfect.”

Lucille’s bitter smile sliced through her face. “Tell me, Negan, how is perfect a woman that’s never had the guts to do shit about her cheating husband, just because she’s afraid he’ll say she’s not worth it? How is perfect someone who doesn’t do anything because she’s so scared of being alone? That this is the best she’ll ever get? How?”

“You’re perfect” Negan insisted, without missing a beat, without letting a single one of Lucille’s words to get to him.

“Not perfect enough to give you everything you want, Negan.”

She let her eyes linger on his face for just a second before looking down at the floor. It was more comfortable like that. She made a move to walk to the suitcase, but Negan met her, arms spread, blocking her way.

“Well, that’s on me, not on you” he snarled. “I’m a goddamn piece of shit who can never value what he has.”

“Well, that’s just one more reason for me to leave, isn’t it?”

“But you don’t want to!” Negan came closer, leaving the distance between them in mere inches. Lucille still refused to raise her eyes, so all she could see were Negan’s feet on the floor in front of her own, and feel his breath on the top of her head. “Lucy, you don’t, you know you don’t. You’ve said it yourself, you’ve thought about that shit many times and never gone through with it. Is that someone who wants it? Bullshit. Baby, honey, darling, you’re forcing this. Don’t fucking do that to yourself. Don’t fucking do that to us.”

Maybe Negan expected his words to magically shatter through his wife’s resolution. His eyes searched again and again through her face, disappointment clearer and clearer with every second she didn’t give in.

“I also said that I can’t take it anymore, Negan. There’s a point where enough is enough, and I have to leave,  _ need  _ to leave, while I still have some self-love left in me. Please, let me. You have to understand that.”

Negan whimpered, a desperate sound that he gave as he ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back. He walked a few steps back and turned to Lucille, eyes wide beyond their capacity and unnervingly fixed on Lucille. “No. Fuck no. I don’t understand it and I sure as shit don’t fucking accept it. What do you want, baby? You want me on my knees? You got it.” Negan’s words were proven when he immediately fell down, making a dull thump when his knees hit the floor, arms spread at his side and hands open. “See? I’m on my fucking knees.” His hands settled on Lucille’s sides. Gentle. Firm. “I can’t lose you. I’ll do anything.”

Lucille didn’t answer. Her face didn’t change, except for a slight tremble in her lower lip that she had no hope of Negan not noticing. She swallowed, forcing it to get rid of the pressure in the base of her throat.

She broke him down with just a few short words.

“Would you stop seeing Rick?”

It took a second for all the vehemence to disappear from Negan’s face. However, it took a few more moments for his face to crumble down, wisp out to cold, silent frustration and impotence under a thin layer of blankness.

Lucille smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Good. I’m glad you’re that certain about him. Makes me feel less like a useless thing. Like it’s for something that has some meaning.”

Negan stepped back when she stepped forward, suddenly fearing her touch rather than yearning it. Still, when Lucille had her things in hand and made for the door, he blocked her way all the same, arms crossed firmly.

“I wouldn’t leave you either, if he asked me. Lucille, I could never choose between the two of you.”

Lucille felt her jaw on the verge of starting to shake, with frustration, with anger, with the sheer desire to break down into tears. Her eyes were firmly set on the wall at her right, and her hand raised to settle on Negan’s chest. She felt him feebly shaking under her touch, too, and she pushed gently.

“Luckily for you, you don’t have to. I’m making the choice for you.”

Walking past him was outright painful, and going down the stairs made her eyes sting with every step down. She didn’t acknowledge Negan’s silent presence right behind her, but she could hear his heavy steps so close behind her, closer than her own shadow. They only came to a stop once she paused in front of the door, eyes angrily fixed on the way her hand shook, closed around the knob. She inhaled deeply and raised her eyes a few inches, trying to find her voice.

“Negan, do me a favor. Don’t fuck up with him the way you did with me. Prove to me that he really means something to you. Please.”

“I love you, Lucille.”

Her movements came to a halt at that, the door only a few inches open in front of her, the slit of daylight filtering through a mocking presence that reminded her how easy it would be to reach it and how she was doubting yet again. She grit her teeth so hard it hurt. She could feel it, all her doubts, all her fear of loneliness, all the love she felt for him, all the chains hooked onto her body that Negan was yanking back, again and again and again, and managing nothing but to hurt her in the process.

It wasn’t fair. Why did he get to toss her aside time and time again and still have this hold on her?

“You have no right” she snarled, voice shaking and shattering under the weight of all of it. She knew she’d regret it, no matter what choice she took, but she also knew that there was only one option in which the regrets would fade. Then, before further doubts had time to assail her, she came out the door and slammed it close. She didn’t give her husband -  _ not anymore  _ \- a last look.

She barely made it to her car before her hand came up to her mouth to choke down a sob. The tears finally started coming down her cheeks, running freely. She knew she’d feel free, but she also knew that she had yet to wait for it to come. Until then, all she’d have was this feeling of utter emptiness. She didn’t even have Negan’s deceiving but comforting arms anymore.

“I love you too, but sometimes that’s not enough, is it?” she whispered into the silence.

Negan couldn’t hear it. As far as he knew, his words had gone unanswered.


	11. What we have

Negan was always talking. In all the time he’d known him, Rick had never managed to make him shut up for more than a couple minutes. He always had this random thought to share, or that dumb dirty joke he’d just come up with, or some rude remark towards someone who had been slightly unpleasant towards him, or cursing for the sake of it. There was never a silent moment beside Negan.

Negan had barely said a word in two weeks.

Rick could vouch for that. He had, after all, spent most of his time those two weeks with Negan, feeling the slow, heavy crawl of silence. Cuddled on bed, back to chest. Sitting on the porch, hand in hand. Sitting at the table, facing each other and eating whatever Negan had made. Or as they were right now, lying down on the couch, arms surrounding each other, Rick half on top of Negan, cheek pressed to the man’s chest as Negan’s fingers lightly caressed over the skin of his neck. Always together, always quiet.

It wasn’t absolute silence, not at all, and Negan wasn’t shutting Rick out - he wouldn’t have the nerve, not this far into it. He wasn’t speaking a lot, but still Rick knew exactly what was going on in his - he still didn’t know how exactly to refer to Negan. His boyfriend’s? His partner’s? He knew exactly what was going on in Negan’s mind. He was just… Coming to terms with it, Rick guessed. Rolling it around in his mind, again and again until all the rough edges eroded away and the bare facts were there for him to face. And while he did that, all of the cockiness, the mischievousness, the flirty had been stripped away, leaving him down to neediness. He clung to Rick to keep himself grounded, he held him and kissed him and fucked him, whatever it took to remind himself that Rick was a solid presence right next to him and that he wasn’t leaving.

Or maybe he wanted to fuck all the shit away and Rick was most easily available. Rick didn’t want to assume anything; Negan had shown wrong for the worse too many times. Rick wanted to believe the better option this time, but he was ready for the opposite.

In either case, Rick was going to stay there for him. Wasn’t like he had anything waiting for him at home other than awkward silences and guilt-filled looks, anyway.

Negan’s fingers turned into a soft grip on his neck that guided him up. Rick went along with it and closed his eyes, focusing on the soft, warm sensation of lips moving languidly against his own. He let Negan continue to leave a myriad of kisses on his cheek and jawline afterwards, as calm and needy as everything Negan had done lately. Rick sighed and adjusted himself on top of Negan, snuggling himself closer.

“I need to pack her things” he murmured against Rick’s lips, once he’d gone back to them. He hesitated for a second. “Can you… Can you help me with that?”

Rick gave him a quizzical look, eyebrow raised slightly. Negan squirmed.

“She called yesterday, said she’s having her things picked up in a couple days. Guess I should have all her shit ready by then to make it quick.” He went quiet for a moment, then covered his eyes with his hand. When he started taking deep breaths, Rick knew he was making an effort to stop himself from crying. “For fuck’s sake, Rick, she’s not even coming here herself. I was hoping I could talk to her, make her change her mind, but she’s not coming. She won’t fucking answer the goddamn phone either, and when I had the chance my brain decided to have a fucking strike and I couldn’t say a damn thing. Fucking fuck.”

Rick guessed it was a good thing that Negan wasn’t looking at him, because he could feel the pity in his own eyes, and he knew for a fact that it wasn’t something that Negan would appreciate. Or maybe yes. Negan had always loved attention, after all, Rick’s specially, and as long as he got it he usually didn’t care about the how. But it was too genuine, this time. Negan wasn’t being dramatic, or blowing things out of proportion. He really was broken.

But he managed to calm down. By the time he brought his hand down, his eyes were back to that serene dullness he’d had since Lucille left. Rick leaned to put a kiss on Negan’s lips, which the man readily accepted.

“Of course. I can do it all myself, if you want.”

Negan managed a fickle smile for about two seconds and then it fell down. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, and once Rick had made himself comfortable again, he said, “No fucking offense, Rick, but this shit ain’t fucking fair.”

Rick hummed, raised his head. Negan made a vague gesture with his hand. “Y’know. I lose my wife, and you get to keep everything.”

Rick held his breath for a long moment. He narrowed his eyes, raised an eyebrow, and tried not to give too much ice to his voice when he spoke. “Excuse me?”

“You have Lori, you have me, you have your kid. A good pussy, a good cock, a sweet family. And I’m here being fucking miserable all on my lonesome until you come see me so I can be miserable with you. Kinda rough shit, ain’t it?”

Rick felt his nostrils flare. “You’re forgetting, Negan” he started, jaw tense and voice hanging from just a thread to controlled, “that I have lost my best friend. That I’m still married to Lori but our marriage is dead and we have to remember it every night. We’re still together so Shane will think we’ve worked it out and leave her alone, and because she’s pregnant. Do you want me to divorce her when our child is coming? When Carl is so young?” Rick shook his head. “I’m not doing that. We’re going to wait until this child has a few years, so both the baby and Carl are old enough to handle us divorcing, if we haven’t worked things out by then. But really, I very much doubt we can.”

“Well, cry me a goddamn river. It’s still more than I got.”

“Well, maybe you should have fucking thought about that before cheating on Lucille, Negan” Rick snarled, voice just an edge away from dripping poison. He reached out, grabbed Negan’s face, fingers digging into his cheek to force him to look him in the eye. “I tried to keep my shit together, is all. All I wanted was to have peace at home, not to lose Lori, not to give in to you, not to hurt Lucille. I tried to keep things how they were because it was good. And fuck, I know I failed in everything, but at least I made a goddamn effort. You? You just wanted to have everything, Negan. You wanted to hold more than you could handle and now you’re complaining about it falling down. What did you think was gonna happen? If you didn’t want to lose her, then you shouldn’t have cheated, and you sure as hell shouldn’t have fallen for someone else.”

Negan stared for a short moment and then he sketched a sharp, dry smirk. “You’re talking as if falling for you was something I could help. You should look at your damn self, baby. Hell, you’re here, trashtalking me, and all I wanna do is fuck you so you can’t be angry at me anymore.”

“I’m not angry, Negan” Rick sighed, dropping his hand and letting it fall on Negan’s chest. He smiled faintly when the man took it and started kissing each finger. Distracting himself with the very first thing available, Rick guessed. “Just… Don’t make it out to be like things are good for me. My home is a disaster and I think it’s starting to get to Carl and… It’s hard for me too, you know? I have lost my wife as much as you’ve lost yours, only I have to pretend I haven’t.”

“She’ll come around. You’re too sexy to resist” Negan hummed after a long moment of playfully nibbling at Rick’s fingers. He was sporting a rare self-conscious smile, and Rick knew him well enough to take it as a peace offering. His way to apologize and beg for Rick to go back to comforting him.

Rick doubted a second but, what the hell. Wasn’t like he could really look down at Negan, morally speaking. Wasn’t like he couldn’t use the comfort, either, so he happily joined their lips and for a few moments, all either of them had to think about was the feeling of each other’s warm, solid body and the taste of each other on their tongue.

He almost thought the matter was down and they were gonna go back to being quiet and sad and ignoring the fact that they were sad, but five minutes into the silence, Negan spoke out again.

“You’re right, you know. It’s my fault. It’s my fault I have to deal with this shit and it’s my fault you have to deal with yours. If I were you, I’d drop my sorry ass before I fuck even more things up.”

And Negan was saying that only because he knew Rick wouldn’t. His way to scratch a couple more sympathy points - although that didn’t mean Negan didn’t genuinely think that, either. He was a master of standing on the edge. Rick let out a snort, a mix of amused and ironic and just plain too damn tired to be really bothered by anything anymore.

“Nah, don’t say that. That’s taking too much out of it. It’s not that simple. And hey, this shit, it’s what we have, like it or not. And I intend to hold tight to it. And you happen to be what I have, so you know. Tough luck.”   


The shine on Negan’s eyes showed his unspoken appreciation for the reassurance. Negan was a man that couldn’t stand to be alone, and Rick knew that. If Rick had left him, Negan woudn’t know what the hell to make with himself, at all. After all, Rick was what Negan had gotten in exchange for his marriage.

He took Negan’s hand and kissed it, just like Negan had kissed his before. “Was it worth it?”   
“Hm?”

“Losing her, getting me.”

Negan hesitated for a moment. “What about you? Was it worth it?”

Rick thought about it for a moment, sucking Negan’s finger in as he did so. This conversation was getting too heavy for both of them, he knew that. The moment both of them had said all they needed to say, they were gonna fuck to lighten up. Might as well start the foreplay.

“I wanna make it worth it” he finally said, making an amazing work of sounding casual. “It’s all I can do. I still have my son, I’m going to have another child, Lori doesn’t hate me. Right now it’s hard to be positive but, you know. It’s all a matter of giving it some time. And when that happens, I want to think that it’ll be worth it. I’ll make it so, if I have to. And you?” he repeated. His eyes took on a significantly softer gleam, and he reached out to trace his fingers along the shape of Negan’s jaw. He felt Negan’s deep exhale as he relaxed into the touch and tilted his head to meet it. “You’ve lost more than I have. Would you say it’s been worth it?”

Rick was pretty certain he was going to get a ‘no’, and hell, he understood it. But a part of him, the part that needed Negan and much as Negan needed him, was afraid of the answer, and hoped with everything it had to be wrong.

Negan have a weak smile and licked his lips. He looked aside and thought for a moment, lip now caught between his teeth. Rick waited patiently, ear pressed to Negan’s chest and taking in the slow and strong beat of his heart.

“Some of the people I hooked up with, I liked” Negan eventually started, hesitant and slow, as if he wasn’t completely sure how to word his thoughts, or like didn’t know for sure where he was going. “What’s the word you used that time? Infatuated. Yeah, that’s it. I get infatuated easily, and whenever I like someone, I try to put my dick in them. You know that. But that’s just some of them. Sometimes, I didn’t give a shit. Hell, sometimes I didn’t even like them at fucking all. And it’s not a matter of finding people hot, either. I mean, shit, if I’m gonna dick someone down, I’d rather have the hots for them, but once or twice I’ve fucked someone that didn’t really do much for my boner. It’s just… It’s because it’s wrong, Rick, because I’m not supposed to. Fucked up, I know, to do shit like that just because it’s the damn forbidden fruit, but that’s how it is, that’s how I am. I get a goddamn high out of it and I love it.”

Negan made a pause. Rick said nothing, just waited with a knot of uneasiness in the back of his mouth, while Negan’s fingers dug into his shoulders.

“So yeah, that’s how it is for me. And then there’s the upper level. That’s when I fall in love. I’ve been in love twice in my life, Rick. I fell in love with Lucille, and that’s never gonna go away. I’m gonna spend the rest of my life hating my guts for driving her away the way I did. And then there’s you.”

Negan finally looked down down, a sad, soft, loving expression in his half-hooded eyes. He reached out to trace Rick’s face like Rick had done moments before, and like Negan before before, Rick reciprocated by leaning into it, catching Negan’s hand with his own and pressing it more solid to his cheek, leaving a kiss into his palm. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to think of nothing but the warm, soothing heat of skin against skin.

It was a fire that had gone out of control, yes, but right now it was what was protecting him from the cold. Rick wasn’t gonna let it go.

“I love you, Rick. Maybe not more than I love Lucille, but it damn sure isn’t less, either. I fucked up with her and now I hope I know not to fuck up with you. I didn’t care about being better for her, but I know you don’t take any bullshit. I think I know better than being the same as I’ve been up to now. I owe it to her, too, you know, doing better. I don’t want to have lost her for nothing. Am I happy about her leaving? Hell no. I wanted my ménage á trois more than anything. But is it worth it? Fuck, Rick. It might be. I hope it is. I need it to be.”

Rick didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slid up, so he could look at Negan’s eyes face to face, without having to look up, without Negan having to look down. He framed Negan’s face with his hands, closed the distance, but just when Negan was opening his lips to accept the kiss, Rick stopped. He let his lips hover just above.

“We will make it worth it” he whispered, assured, promised against Negan’s lips. Negan traced a smile. Kinda sad, but a genuine smile all the same.

“You bet we will. It’s the only thing we can do.”


End file.
